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moni-logues · 7 months

Text

Across a Crowded Room

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Strangers-to-lovers, idolverse, smut

Word count: 10.7k

Summary: Dissatisfied and uncomfortable at a party where you don’t belong, in a country where you feel like you don’t belong, you see a man looking at you from across the room. Maybe he’s what you’ve been missing.

Content: alcohol consumption, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, I guess slight exhibitionism since it all happens up against a window lmao

A/N: Ok, so I 1000000% thought I had re-posted this here already?? but Lia has informed me that I have not and since I got a nice message about it on the old blog, I figured now's as good a time as any to repost!! The start of this fic is literally the first writing I had done for over a decade. I started writing even before I had a writing blog. Then the rest of it was written... last November? ish? idk. anyway, I read this myself the other day and it's alright! ETA: LOL, you can tell it's old because it's written in present tense LMAO

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You tug self-consciously at the hem of your dress; it’s a little too short for your liking, but Hanjae likes you in K-style clothes and, once you’re there, it’ll be fine. It’s always a little nerve-wracking the thought of going to a party where you hardly know anyone, but it always turns out fine. Fun, even. Positive thinking. You sigh and inhale deeply before leaving your apartment and heading down to the car he’s sent for you.

When you first met, you were both taken with each other. He was intrigued by your foreignness and enchanted by your clumsy negotiations in a foreign culture; you were reassured by his confidence and excited by the access he had to hitherto hidden worlds of luxury and indulgence. He wasn’t rolling with Elon Musk or anything (and you’d have had nothing to do with him if he were), but he lived with an ease and security that you yearned for. Which, you suppose, is why you’re still letting him parade you around at parties like this.

It was fun at first. You liked the attention – who wouldn’t? Instead of feeling freakish and out of place, you felt interesting and cherished for your differences. You felt like they were laughing with you when you told funny, embarrassing stories of when you’d got it wrong, or how you do things back home. It felt like people were fascinated by you and you were warmed by their curiosity. You didn’t mind when they reached out to touch your tattoos or asked personal questions, because they didn’t mean any harm. Hanjae gave you a social life that you hadn’t quite managed to create for yourself in this new place and got you out of your apartment, out of your comfort zone, and you clung to that.

Recently, though, you’ve been feeling different. When you show up to parties with him and see his friends you’ve met before, they’re surprised you’re still around. They joke to your face that they would’ve expected Hanjae to have moved on by now. They ask what his parents think (but you have never been introduced to them). They’re not so charmed by you anymore. These friends barely spare you a second thought once they’ve registered their surprise and the attentions of new friends aren’t as welcome as they once were. You started feeling uncomfortable with the way Hanjae paraded you around a couple of weeks ago and now, you’re frankly sick to your stomach. When people reach out to touch you, you flinch away; you don’t tell funny, embarrassing stories because you feel like you’re being laughed at; you stay quiet, for the most part, because your Korean is still not very good and, when they correct you or laugh at your mistakes, you don’t feel like they’re doing it kindly. Standing, mute, next to Hanjae while he laughs and drinks makes you feel like an object, a trophy, an oddity. If Hanjae were a Victorian-era Englishman travelling to the ends of the Earth to ransack a foreign place and bring home stolen goods, you were the buried necklace of an Aztec noblewoman he would give to the eligible girl in the manor house whose hand he is trying to win. He is showing you off because other people are impressed, but you no longer get the feeling that he is.

You hand over your phone and lip balm to Hanjae when you meet him outside the venue; this became a habit early on, so you wouldn’t have to hold a bag and he was happy to keep them in his pockets. Now, it feels a little bit like handing over your freedom.

“Cheer up!” he says as you lean back in your seat. “This’ll be fun, won’t it?” He smiles at you and tucks your hair behind your ear. He’s not a bad guy. He really isn’t. You’re not entirely sure if he even realises what he’s doing with you, if he knows that he doesn’t really like you but the idea of you, if he knows that there’s no future with you, if he’s realised that this relationship is rapidly approaching its expiry date. He’s been extremely good to you and you owe it to him to try. However much you want it to end, you don’t want it to end badly and you don’t want to hurt him; there’s no need for that.

You walk into the party amongst a sea of black suits. You scan the crowd, looking for other women you can compare your outfit to. A terrible thing to do, you know, but your insecurity needs reassurance that you’re dressed appropriately for this event. Hanjae is already leading you over to his friends, two of whom have brought their girlfriends, who are dressed in outfits similar to yours, so that’s something at least. You greet them brightly and Hanjae hands you a drink before launching into a conversation you can’t quite follow. That’s the other thing about these parties; they’re so loud, even if everyone were speaking English, you’re not sure you’d be able to hear them properly, so you hardly stand a chance in Korean. You’ve improved dramatically and can get by in your day-to-day life, but you don’t feel like you’re good enough yet to have a proper conversation, to really talk to anyone. It’s quite a lonely feeling and another reason you’ve spent so much time with Hanjae: he speaks fluent English; although he uses it less and less often these days and he gets more impatient when you need things repeating. You suppose it must be difficult for him, too, having to use a second language so much.

You gaze around the room, looking at nothing in particular. You sip your drink and wonder what everyone else is thinking about. You barely notice the looks you get anymore – most of them are meaningless anyway and people pass their eyes over you before turning back to their friends – but out of the corner of your eye, you see someone looking at you. You don’t recognise him, but you’ve never been very good with faces and the lighting is weird here. You raise your glass and nod slightly; even if you don’t know him, it’s nice to be polite. He looks a little flustered that you’ve noticed and quickly looks away, and then back again and raises his glass a little before turning and walking away. You smile, what a cutie.

Your glass is empty and your feet hurt from standing still for so long, so you tell Hanjae you’re going to get another drink. He asks you to get him a whiskey, so you traipse to the bar and order. You hand the drink to Hanjae without a word and wander off; there must be somewhere to sit in this place.

The main room is cavernous and you’re worried there will be no open doors to anywhere else. There is a small group of tables in one corner, but they are all already occupied. You look around as you walk, and suddenly bump into someone.

“Oh, so-“, you start to say, but you realise it isn’t someone; it is a mirror. The whole back wall is mirrored. For a moment, you are completely disoriented and slightly embarrassed, but as you edge along the mirror, you realise that the wall doesn’t reach the other side and the room continues beyond it. As you cross behind the mirror, the din of music and voices is subdued significantly. There’s another partial wall from the other side as though the room is zig-zagging. You’re wary of going too far, but the increasing quiet is soothing. You turn another corner and there’s a bench opposite a large staircase. You immediately sit down along its length and lift your feet. You wonder what the time is and how much more of it you’ll have to kill before you can go home. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that Hanjae is a good man and you are very fortunate and suffering from very glamorous problems. A few months ago, you’d have given an arm and a leg to be at a party like this. Be careful what you wish for, you think to yourself.

As you fidget on the bench, you realise you are not alone. There is a man coming down the stairs. You take your feet off the bench and try to look like you’re doing something (what? What could you be doing? There is absolutely nothing to occupy you here!); you settle for just looking awkward. You nod your head and raise a hand as he reaches the bottom.

“Are you ok?” he asks. His hesitance reminds you of someone and you realise with a flash that he is the man who was looking at you earlier.

You clear your throat.

“네. 괜찮아요. 감사합니다,” you answer falteringly, embarrassed at having been caught hiding out. You rise to leave.

“오, 정말요? ……………?”

You don’t understand the second half of what he said and you curse yourself for having answered in Korean; if you’d just spoken English and pretended you didn’t know any Korean at all, this would’ve been much simpler!

“Sorry, I didn’t understand,” you tell him. “갈게요.”

“No, wait,” he cries, with more force than he intended. “You don’t have to leave.” He gestures to the bench. “I was also looking for somewhere quiet.”

He speaks shyly and you assume he doesn’t have much practice at speaking English and don’t have the energy for locking you both into a conversation where neither of you can quite understand the other. On the other hand, it would feel rude to just walk away now. You stand, not leaving but not quite staying, both of you trapped in an awkward moment that seems to last forever.

“You can leave if you want,” he says, finally. “I am going to stay.” He sits on the bottom step and takes a sip from his drink. “It’s ok, we don’t have to talk- but I can speak English a little bit if you want.”

You slowly return to the bench and sit down. You feel like you should say something, but your mind is blank. It’s like you’ve never had a conversation before in your life; what do people say? Does he even want you to say something? Why was he staring at you earlier? In the same way that everyone else always does or was there a specific reason? You feel your hands start to sweat and you inwardly roll your eyes at yourself and tell yourself to get a grip, literally nothing is happening.

He is looking out of the window and you are staring into the corner on the opposite side; you each take glances at one another, praying the other doesn’t notice. You can still hear the music from the party, quiet in the background, and you wonder if Hanjae has noticed your absence yet; you expect not. You glance at the man opposite you and catch his eye. You both chuckle awkwardly.

“I’m ________,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he answers.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“I saw you earlier; I didn’t think we’d met before.”

“No, I’m not really invited to these things,” you explain. “I just tag along with my b-,“ you stop, the word ‘boyfriend’ weighing heavily on your tongue.

“Who’s your boyfriend?”

Dammit.

“Uh, Kim Hanjae?”

“Ah… Don’t know him.”

“He’s…” How on earth did you get to this subject so quickly? Do you really want to talk about Hanjae to this random man? More to the point, does this random man want to hear about your boyfriend and how you actually don’t want him to be your boyfriend anymore? Doubtful. “He’s nice,” you finish, lamely.

“Just don’t like parties?”

Part of you wishes you had just left when you had the chance. Then you realise how ridiculously you’re behaving; hating the party because no one will talk to you and, now, as soon as someone starts, you want to leave. ‘Get a grip, girl,’ you say to yourself.

“I like parties,” you answer, “but it’s-… I’m-… This-…” You pause as you try to work out how to give an honest answer that isn’t simultaneously dumping all your crap onto him. “These are all his friends; I don’t really know anyone here.”

He nods.

“I have a different problem: everyone knows me and wants to talk to me all the time.” He laughs. “I don’t like big parties. They’re… so much… too much.”

You nod. The two of you lapse into silence again, but it’s more comfortable this time. You’ve broken the ice a little. He seems nice and you feel a pang of sympathy for him: to be a big deal at parties like this sounds exhausting, especially if you don’t even like parties to start with. No wonder he’s hiding out with you.

“It’s hard for me to talk to people at these things,” you tell him. “My Korean isn’t very good and Hanjae doesn’t like speaking English when we’re with his friends because some of them don’t speak it.”

“I think your Korean sounds good.”

You laugh; that was a sweet thing to say given that he’s heard you say all of three words.

“It’s ok, but we couldn’t have this conversation in Korean. Sorry.” You smile weakly and feel pathetic; you knew it would be a process, moving to a new country and learning the language as you go, but you weren’t prepared for how embarrassed and ashamed you would feel all the time about your failings.

“Don’t be sorry!” He grins at you. “I can try my English! But, actually, it is not very good either. Sorry.”

You laugh again. Koreans and their modesty; his English sounds just fine from where you’re sitting.

“Did you move here recently?” he asks.

“About four months ago,” you answer. “I was… looking for something new, I guess. I don’t know… I needed new horizons, new experiences.”

“And how do you think about it now you’re here?”

You wonder if he knows what a loaded question that is. You exhale with a huff. Where to begin?

“It’s been harder than I thought it would be,” you tell him. “I feel very… different. Being looked at so much is not something I was used to… I think Hanjae likes it, but it’s awkward for me. I feel like…”

“An object.”

Your eyes meet and your chest is flooded with the warmth of familiarity. He’ll understand, won’t he?

“When we met,” you start, looking away self-consciously, “he was charmed by my foreignness, y’know? And he liked how different I looked and found it cute when I made mistakes in Korean and didn’t know things. It gave him clout, y’know? Dating a foreigner? I was spoilt by it, the attention; I thought it was for me and when he bought me dresses and took me to parties to show me off, I thought it was because I was special, not just because I was foreign. I loved it at the start.

“I think the appeal is wearing off, though,” you continue, stealing a quick glance to gauge his reaction. He’s looking at you patiently, intently, concentrating, probably, on understanding what you’re saying. “He gets annoyed sometimes now when I don’t know things and-“

You tell him everything. Once you start, you find you can’t stop. You don’t know whether to be angry or sad about it, so you vacillate between the two. Jungkook listens, never interrupts; he drinks and nods and keeps looking at you with those huge brown eyes.

“I know it’s over,” you say, resolute. “I just-” you realise it as you say it, “I’m scared that I won’t have anything if I don’t have him.”

He looks at you thoughtfully for a moment.

“But you met him in Korea, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you still have the person who moved all the way here to start a new life; that seems like a lot to me.”

For a split second, you don’t know whether to burst into tears or fling your arms around him and give him a kiss. ‘Is he looking at me,’ you wonder ‘or staring into my soul?’. You feel seen, seen for the first time in months. You decide then and there that you would walk on hot coals for this man; he’s got you whether he wants you or not. His kindness streams out from him like rays of the sun from behind clouds. Such a bright, young thing, hiding in the dark.

“What about you?” You ask. “You’re hiding back here, too.”

“Ah.” He finishes his drink and places the glass next to him on the step. “I prefer quiet places. I like to keep things small and…-”

“Intimate?”

You blush furiously as he looks at you. That isn’t what you meant and you’re not sure how he’s taken it.

“Yeah, intimate. Big crowds are not my thing.”

“Not when they forget that you’re a person, first.”

He nods.

You stand and move to look out of the window, closer to him. He rises, too, and stands next to you. Your arm is a hair’s breadth from him; you daren’t move.

“Do you like the view?” he asks.

“Actually, I don’t really like a cityscape. I prefer country views.”

“What are the views like where you’re from?”

No one has asked you about home like that. They ask for funny differences between here and there or ask you to debunk or confirm stereotypes, but no one has really cared what you actually think. You smile, picturing in your mind’s eye cloudy, wind-swept beaches, rolling hills, pier arcades, church spires and so much green. You tell him everything. You turn your back to Seoul and, leaning against the glass, describe the house you grew up in and where your grandparents used to live; you describe the places you took holidays when you were a kid and the specific smell of the sea that isn’t the same anywhere else in the world. He’s been to your home country before, but he hasn’t been to your hometown; he asks questions and shows interest and you realise how starving you’ve been. Starved of this sort of attention – focused, interested, penetrating. You’ve had a taste and you want more and more.

You ask him about Seoul; did he grow up here? No, he tells you about Busan in the South. He speaks slowly and thoughtfully about his childhood and his dreams and moving here at such a young age, growing up so far from everything he’s ever known. He’s achieved more than he ever thought was even possible, more than he had ever dreamed, he explains; sometimes he still can’t believe it’s real.

While he talks, you study his face. He’s happy now, but you feel for the scared, little boy thrust into the industry machine before he even knew who he was. Now’s not the time, you know that, but you want to gently crack him open like a soft-boiled egg. Such depth in his eyes, so much soul. You resist the urge many times to put your hand on his arm, hold his hand for a second, reach out and physically touch him somehow. You feel connected to him in such a way that you need it to be physical for a moment, to close the circle, to just… touch.

You’re still standing by the window, deep in conversation, when a man appears from behind the wall and beckons to Jungkook. They talk quickly and Jungkook returns.

“I’m going to get a drink.”

Your heart falls.

“Do you want one?”

A wash of relief. You shrug, sure.

“Ok, wait here. I won’t be long.”

He leaves and you turn back to the window, pressing your forehead against the cool glass. You wonder what time it is, where is Hanjae, what’s he doing, is he even still here, has he noticed you’re missing, is Jungkook actually coming back? You take some deep breaths.

With no watch, no phone, and no clock in this dark, little hideaway, you have no way to tell how long Jungkook has been. One minute? Could be ten. You wonder if he’ll make it back to you; after all, he was hiding back here to avoid being grasped in the clutches of all the many, many people out there. Maybe he’s been waylaid. He’s got stuck with a chatterbox who won’t be quiet; he’s got trapped into a business conversation that he can’t leave. Maye he’s seen some friends and is having fun out there.

You sigh, knowing that if he doesn’t come back soon, you’ll have to go out there, too. Hanjae will be missing you, you tell yourself; it’s rude to abandon him completely when he’s the reason you’re even here in the first place. You take a deep, resolute breath and stand, smoothing out your dress. You bump into Jungkook as you round the corner.

“Oh,” he says as he sees you. “Are you going?”

He hands you a drink and you take it, the cold glass sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Uh, well, no, well yes, I was but I didn’t know if you were coming back.” You hope you didn’t sound accusatory.

“I’m sorry, it is hard to avoid people out there,” he replies, continuing around the corner and sitting on the bench. You follow him and he places a hand on the bench, indicating you should join. You feel bad; he shouldn’t have to apologise. You sit next to him on the bench and sip your drink.

“You can go back out there, if you want, you know; you don’t have to stay here with me,” you tell him. His eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“No, thank you!” he laughs. “That was enough. Maybe I will show my face again a bit later.”

“Good.” You spoke without thinking and are just about to regret it when he smiles at you.

“Yeah. Good.”

You place a hand down on the bench and he reaches out a finger to touch your bracelet. When you packed your whole life into one suitcase, a lot of brutal cuts had to be made and there are so many parts of your heart at home, abandoned by you, but not this one. It’s a tiny gold chain, with a tiny gold J attached.

“That’s not the letter of your name,” Jungkook says, still studying your bracelet.

“No… No, it’s from my best friend’s name,” you explain. “She gave this to me a long time ago; I like to wear it when I feel like I need her, to feel like I’ve got a little bit of her with me.” You rub your wrist, self-consciously, and wonder what she’s up to right now.

“Does it help?”

“No, not really.” You laugh, a little sad. “It reminds me that there are people in the world who love me, which is nice, but it also reminds me that those people are thousands of miles away.”

“All of them?” His penetrating eyes beam at you and you feel like no matter what answer you give, it’ll be the wrong one. You shrug.

“I thought maybe you told me a fake name before,” he admits, grinning sheepishly.

“Oh, I don’t think that would’ve ever occurred to me! Why, do you do that?”

He nods. He smiles but it’s sad, the mirth not reaching his eyes.

“Sometimes. But I wouldn’t get away with it so easily if I wore one of those, right?”

You unclasp the bracelet’s fastening and it slips off your wrist and, taking an end in each hand, hold it out to him. He looks uncertainly at you and you nod. He offers his wrist and you fix the chain in place.

“There’s no getting away from who you really are,” you tell him, knowing full well that it doesn’t matter where you go, ’cause there you’ll always be. He grins. “For tonight.”

“For tonight, I can be your best friend?”

You laugh and nod, thinking, ‘god, can he be my best friend forever?’.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, gently moving the bracelet around his wrist; you wonder what he’s thinking and take a sip of your drink.

A few minutes pass in a comfortable silence until Jungkook speaks again.

“I don’t have anything to give you.”

“What?”

“In return.” He indicates the bracelet. “I don’t have anything I can give you.” He takes off a ring and considers it. “I think they will all be too big.” He holds it out and you offer up your hand; he slips it onto your index finger and you lift your hand up, swirling the ring around so that it very nearly flies off the tip.

“Too big,” you confirm with a grin.

He pulls his sleeve up to reveal a watch and you notice the tattoos running underneath.

“I think this will not go with your dress, right?”

You nod absently, trying to make out what you’re looking at. You take the edge of his sleeve and lift it a little higher to get a better look and then become aware of what you’re doing and drop it, apologising instantly.

“That’s ok,” he says and he undoes the cuff, rolling the sleeve up to his elbow. He turns his arm slowly so you can get a good look (or as good a look as you can manage in the dark light). You nod approvingly.

“That’s why I was looking at you earlier,” he says, a little embarrassed. “I was trying to look at your tattoo.”

Well, that explains the intensity of his focus earlier. You turn so that he can see. You feel, for a second, his hand above your skin and your stomach clenches, praying he won’t touch you like everyone else does: ‘just please don’t let him touch me; please, please don’t let him touch me’. But the touch never comes. You sense his hand moving across your back and down your arm and you twist your head to see his finger, an inch above the skin, tracing the lines of your tattoo. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body back towards him.

“They’re very beautiful.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he answers and you’re struck again by the feeling of being seen and not merely looked at. Neither of you looks away this time. You hold the moment between yourselves, pausing time just for a second. You break the connection and look down, tracing a finger over your bracelet on his wrist. You know it’s only a coincidence that they share the same initial – it’s not exactly uncommon – but something about it feels right.

“Do you want it back?” he asks.

No, you don’t. Not yet. You feel like he’s wearing a part of you while he’s wearing it; he has accepted a part of you as a part of himself. You feel warm in the glow of that tiny, tremulous thread between you. You think, and the thought shocks you, that you would be alright he kept it forever. It’s immensely precious to you, so much so that you brought it with you thousands of miles away into your new life, but, somehow, Jungkook’s wearing it brings more to you, more comfort, more confidence, more certainty in the knowledge that there are people in the world that love you. Love is not diminished when given away, it is doubled. You suddenly wish that you did have something of his you could wear, if only for tonight.

The silence lapses and you talk, nursing your drinks, knowing that one of you will have to leave if either of you needs another. You forget the passing of time and everything outside of this little bubble. It’s the most fun you’ve had at a party for ages.

The man who appeared earlier returns and, once again, beckons to Jungkook. Jungkook stands and goes over to him and they, once again, talk quietly. Jungkook returns and the man remains.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Jungkook asks and you feel shattered all of a sudden. You had forgotten all about Hanjae, truth be told, and you are overwhelmed with guilt and shame that you’ve spent the whole night away from him, talking to another man. He isn’t my boyfriend, that’s what you wanted to say: he’s definitely not my boyfriend, or even if he is, I don’t want him to be and he won’t be for much longer! Why is Jungkook asking? Whatever bubble you were in has been popped from the inside. A part of you feels heartbroken and a part of you feels betrayed. It was just you and Jungkook; there’s no need to bring anyone else into this.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know,” you stutter in response. “Probably… somewhere…”. You have no idea where he will be; you assume that he is still here (you hope he is still here because he still has your phone), but who can say for sure?

“Do you want to leave with me?” Jungkook asks and you are stunned into momentary silence.

“What?”

“Do you want to leave with me?” he repeats. “We don’t have to go anywhere; I can take you home if you want, but would you like to leave?”

You feel like that is too many mixed messages to cope with right now so you nod dumbly and stand.

“Hanjae,” you say abruptly as your brain sputters back into gear. “He has my phone and my things.”

“Ok, shall I meet you outside? I’ll wait.”

“I’ll be quick.”

Breathless, you walk as quickly as you can back into the cavernous room, the noise building to a roar, the throng of people overwhelming. You stand on tiptoes and crane your neck, looking for anyone you recognise, cursing the organisers for the dim lighting and all men for their interminably boring black suits which make none of them stand out. You notice movement in your peripheral vision and turn to see a waving arm, beckoning you. It’s not Hanjae; it’s one of his friends.

“Where have you been?” they exclaim as you approach. “Han was looking everywhere for you; thought you must’ve disappeared! Anyway, he had to leave earlier – some work emergency – so he told me to give you these if I saw you.” He hands over your phone, lip balm, and a lipstick you’re sure isn’t yours. “He told you you can order a car if you like, but he won’t be back so you’ll have to get home on your own.”

You see that his friends clearly have no idea of entertaining you or keeping you company for the rest of the evening, which is just as well, given you were about to leave with someone else.

As you make your way outside, you look at the lipstick you were given. You try to think what might constitute a ‘work emergency’ on a Friday night; it’s not like the guy’s a doctor or fire fighter! You try not to let suspicion creep in, because Hanjae has never given you any reason to doubt his fidelity before, but then, you’ve also never considered it, because you’ve never really considered the two of you to be in an actual relationship. Maybe he hadn’t either. And if that’s the case, then there’s no need to be hurt or angered by it. But there is a niggle. There’s something crawling, digging up, trying to plant its seed in your heart. You decide if it’s going to happen at all, it will have to be tonight. As you approach the doorway, you stand to one side and dial Hanjae’s number.

“여보세요?” he answers just as you were about to give up.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh. Where are you?”

“I’m still at the party.”

“Oh. Where did you go? I tried to look for you earlier; I’m not there anymore. I’ve had to come to the office.”

“Yeah, I know; I found Seongyoung and he gave me my phone.”

“Right yeah, yeah.” He sounds distracted.

“So, are you in the office now?” you ask.

“Yeah, but I can’t see you; there’s been a huge mistake and it’s going to take a long time to fix.”

“Please; it’ll be quick. I promise.”

He sighs heavily but agrees. You hang up the phone with a small weight sitting in your stomach.

You turn back to the entrance and walk out, scanning for Jungkook. There are a few dark cars sitting in front of you but you have no idea if any one of them belongs to him. You hesitate, not sure where to turn, standing awkwardly in front of drivers and security officers. A door on one of the cars opens and a hand waves; you approach and Jungkook beams up at you from inside.

“Quick!” He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you in. He speaks quickly to the driver in Korean and turns back to you. “Are you alright?”

“Um, actually, can we go somewhere?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I… have to do something. It won’t take long, please.”

“Of course, that’s ok. Where do you want to go?”

You give him the address of Hanjae’s office building and he relays it to the driver. You sit, slightly on edge, compulsively flicking the edge of your phone case off and on, off and on. The building isn’t far and you sit in silence while Jungkook hums along to the radio. You are barely even aware of what song is playing. The driver slows and you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Just give me like, five minutes. I’ll be quick,” you say as you open the car door.

“It’s ok; you can take as long as you like. I will wait.”

You wonder what Jungkook thinks you are doing, where he thinks you are. You wonder if he knows. Part of you assumes he does, since he seems to intuitively understand so much about you. You enter the building and approach the reception desk. The woman behind it barely looks up as she opens the barrier to let you in. You’re not sure if she recognises you from times you’ve been here before or just does not care about her job. If you had to man a reception desk in an almost entirely empty building on a Friday night, you probably wouldn’t care much either. As you call a thank you to her and walk past, the lipstick suddenly flashes into your mind. Could it be hers? You suppose it could be. It could be anyone’s. It might not have anything to do with Hanjae at all. Maybe Seongyoung handed you his girlfriend’s lipstick by mistake. Maybe not. It won’t matter soon.

You reach Hanjae’s floor and can see him in his glass-walled office: jacket and tie off, sleeves rolled up, standing and on the phone. You walk with purpose to his door and wave. He gestures for you to come in, so you stand inside the door and wait for his conversation to end.

“What’s up?” he asks, putting his phone on his desk.

“I think we need to have a conversation,” you begin, your resolve holding firm for now.

“Right now? I really don’t have time-“

“I said I’d be quick and I meant it.” If you aren’t quick, you’re not sure you’ll be able to go through with it.

“Ok then, shoot.”

You hadn’t actually planned what you were going to say. None of the words sounded right; you wanted to be clear and direct but kind at the same time; is it even possible to tell someone kindly that you don’t want them to be in your life anymore? You clench and unclench your fist and decide to rip the plaster straight off.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I don’t think we should be together. I think we should end things. This is over.” The words tumble out without your being able to stop them. Hanjae’s eyebrows raise and he looks surprised.

“Oh.”

He looks a little dumb-founded but you had expected him to say more and aren’t sure what to do now. You open and close your mouth like a goldfish, waiting for something else to happen. You haven’t actually broken up with anyone before so you’re not sure how this usually goes.

“Can I ask why?”

“We’re not a good fit.” You hope that this will suffice but you know it won’t satisfy him.

“What does that mean? Don’t we have fun together? Don’t we like each other?” Ay, there’s the rub.

“Actually, I don’t really think you do, no.” You try to explain to him all the things you’ve been feeling recently; you try not to blame him for any of it because you don’t want this to turn into an argument; you tread as carefully as you can but you’re so desperate for this to be over now it’s started that you can’t stop your mouth running on and on.

“You’ve given me so much and I’m so grateful to you for that and I really value all the time we have spent together and I do think you’re a nice person and I don’t want to hurt you but… well, this is how I feel.” You feel a little breathless as you come to a stop. Hanjae doesn’t say anything for a while and you can’t read his face. You don’t know what he’s thinking and the longer the silence lasts, the sicker and sicker you feel.

“I’m sorry that you feel that my attention has been so unwelcome,” he finally answers, speaking slowly and coldly. “I don’t really know what else I could have done to show you that I value you: I buy you things, take you places, I introduced you to all of my friends, I show you off; is that not loving? You say you don’t even think I like you, but if that’s true, why would I bother to see you? Why would I waste my time with you if I didn’t? I hadn’t, until now, considered our time together a waste, but it seems as though my efforts have been just that. You’ve been feeling this way for weeks, have you? Well, why are you here, then? Why did you come tonight at all if all of my friends ignore you and all of my attention is so unwanted? If the time we spend together makes you feel so awful, why have you waited this long to say something? You disappeared very early this evening; I tried looking for you everywhere. You said you were getting a drink and then I didn’t see you again. Perhaps it’s not that my attention is unwanted but that you’ve found someone else whose attention you prefer? Were you just putting up with me for long enough to find a higher roller, someone richer, or more famous perhaps? Am I a step on your ladder to the top? You have never, until tonight, given me a reason not to trust you, but you have to admit that this is rather out of the blue and your behaviour at the party was… not very polite. You abandoned me-“

You scoff at that, unable to stop yourself. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. Hanjae raises his eyebrows and waits for you to explain yourself. You’ve no idea how. You say nothing. You’re the first to break eye contact and you look at the ground, then the window, the desk, anywhere but Hanjae’s face.

“Fine,” he says. “Have it your way. What a horrible boyfriend I was to you, to treat you to presents and dinners and parties, to be so impressed by you that I want to show you off to everyone I know, to speak English with you and help you with Korean, to help you get settled in, to give you a social life, to show you what Seoul has to offer, what I have to offer, to never treat you like-“

“A person. You didn’t treat me like a person, Hanjae. I’m not a prize to show off; I’m a person first, not an object.” Your heart is hammering in your chest and you can feel tears pricking in your eyes. How can you get him to understand?

“Oh, I objectify you?” It is his turn to scoff. “And yet I am the one who has been used.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

“No, I- it’s- we- I-“

“Whatever, you can leave now.” He turns his back on you and picks up his phone again. He turns around with the phone to his ear and nods at the door, shooing you away. You turn around and leave the office on trembling legs. As soon as you step into the lift to go back down, the tears come. You’re not even sure why you’re crying; you wanted this after all. It was just horrible. You feel sticky with sweat all over, and shaky with the stress of it. You know that Hanjae isn’t right, saying those things about you, and he was lashing out defensively, but it hurt all the same. Or maybe he is a little bit right. You said yourself that he’s given you so much, access to things and people and places you wouldn’t have had otherwise; you said yourself that you enjoyed that. Maybe you are in the wrong, at least a little bit. You both are, you suppose. You exit the lift and walk briskly out of the office, not turning to look at the receptionist on your way out in case she sees you crying. You step out of the door and hide behind a pillar, catching your breath, drying your tears and trying to put on a happy face. Leaning against the cold stone of the wall, you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“____?”

Shit. Jungkook is right there in front of you, looking concerned.

“Are you ok? What happened?”

You shake your head and hold up your hands.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You stand up straight and give yourself a body shake. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You can’t think of much worse than going home to your poky apartment to spend the rest of your night miserable and alone.

“No… Can we, can we get a drink? Do you want to get a drink?”

Jungkook grimaces slightly. “Ah, that’s kind of difficult for me. I can’t really just go to a bar on a Friday night, y’know?”

Your heart sinks; of course he doesn’t want to go to a bar with you.

“We could have a drink at my house, if you want?” he offers.

Your heart rises. God, yes, please.

You drive back to Jungkook’s apartment in silence. The presence of the driver makes you feel somehow inhibited, self-conscious. You feel conspicuous, even though you’re sure the driver couldn’t care less about who you are or what you’re doing there. He’s just doing his job. You, nevertheless, don’t want to say anything yet, not until you’re alone with Jungkook. He’s scrolling on his phone, and you take the opportunity to study him more closely. His face changes with the changing light: suddenly brightly lit as you stop at traffic lights under a lamppost, then hidden in shadows. He has a kind face, open and bright, deep, soft eyes… You wanted to reach out a finger to trace his profile, the line of his lips, study him as if you were about to embark upon a masterpiece of him. Not that you would be able to capture his spirit if you tried. There’s a light in his eyes that seems to lie so deeply within them but shine so close to the surface.

You can’t work out what you’re feeling – too much, honestly. You need a minute to step back, step out of yourself – out of your life – to sort through everything that had happened. You feel a little as though you have accidentally stepped on a travelator and things are moving faster than you can keep up with. You wonder if you’ll regret any of this in the morning, if sleep will clear your mind and show your actions up as mistakes. You hope not. You think not. You catch the glint of your bracelet, still around Jungkook’s wrist and you nod to yourself. No, this – if this alone – is not a mistake.

When you arrive at Jungkook’s building, he shows you in and your mouth gapes. This was much bigger than Hanjae’s place. Wow. Just how famous was this guy? You are reminded forcefully of how little you actually know about him, whatever your feelings might be saying.

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, crouching in front of a cabinet. He opens the door to reveal all manner of spirits and liquors.

“Oh, anything,” you answer, without thinking. He laughs and you’re embarrassed by your answer but making another decision at this point feels impossible. You feel like a swan, calm on top, but flailing wildly underneath. You begin to think that maybe you should have let Jungkook take you home, so you could’ve gone to bed, or stared out of the window blankly until the sun rose. He’s too stimulating. Questions constantly rise to the surface of your mind like bubbles in boiling water: what’s his family like? What’s his favourite film? What’s his favourite food? Is he single? What’s he thinking? What does he want out of life? He’s already achieved his career dream so what’s his next dream?

He hands you a glass and you take a sip without even looking. It’s strong, good. You follow Jungkook to the sofa and flop onto it, thankful to be sitting comfortably. He asks if the drink is ok and you just nod and take another sip. You’re torn with conflicting desires: to stare at him endlessly, to fall into his chest and listen to his heartbeat, to tell him everything, to listen to him tell you everything, to kiss him, to never kiss him, to be his best friend, to fall in love with him, to fall in love with him and love him from afar from the rest of your life. It’s exquisite, the confusion, the keenness of your muddled feelings. You wonder briefly if you are just drunk but shake the thought from your head: you haven’t had that much to drink.

You drink in silence for a while and when you’ve finished, you stand. Placing your glass on the coffee table, you wander over to the bookcase, full of not books but DVDs and figurines. You scan the titles, your eyes not really seeing. They linger on a small figurine of a tiger at the edge of a shelf. You pick it up.

“Year of the tiger?” you ask, brandishing the figure at him.

“It is.” He stands and comes closer to you, taking the tiger in his hand.

“This is me,” you tell him. 24 years old, you were born two tigers ago. You take the figure back and wiggle it in his face. He laughs.

“I’m an ox,” he says, kneeling down. He opens the door of a little cabinet and reveals figurines for each of the zodiac animals. You laugh picking them up and inspecting them. He takes the ox from the cupboard and the tiger from your hand and puts them both back on the bookshelf. Feeling silly, you move the tiger and make a sound that’s neither quite a roar nor a meow as though the tiger is talking to the ox. Jungkook laughs and responds in kind, lowing deeply as he turns the ox towards the tiger. This is the sort of nonsense you need to lift you from the deep water of your confused feelings.

You move to the window as Jungkook refills your glass. It’s probably a good view that he probably paid a lot of money for but you can’t be enamoured with so many lights and so much modern architecture. You can just barely make out the dark shape of the mountains beyond and you smile; that’s more like it. Jungkook joins you at the window. You talk quietly; you don’t want to tell him that you broke up with Hanjae, because it implies something that you don’t really want to imply, but it comes out in the course of conversation and you actually feel relieved. You don’t know what Jungkook feels about it, if anything, but he seems pleased for you. You feel like everything is so fragile, delicate, precarious. You stay talking at the window for what feels like hours (maybe it is) because you feel that to move will be to ruin the moment somehow, force a shift in the atmosphere that you don’t want.

Your eyes settle on the gold chain at his wrist and your fingers reach out for it, toying with it. Jungkook’s hand moves, into yours, his fingers dancing on your palm. You flick your eyes back to his and he’s smiling at you, shy and sweet. You let him take your hand and suddenly it’s a handshake and you’re snorting, laughing, leaning towards each other as your shoulders shake. You lean your head on his shoulder as your breath comes back and Jungkook moves his hand to waist, pulls you closer to him.

He’s still smiling when you lift your head to look at him and you’re staring back at him, wide-eyed and unsure. He pulls you closer still, his arm snaking around your waist and he kisses you without hesitation. His lips are soft but he isn’t; he’s sure and confident and he brings his thumb to your chin to gently press down, gently open your mouth and let him inside. You’re responding before you’ve had the opportunity to think. Your hands grab at the collar of his shirt and you move against him, a leg between his legs, his bottom lip between your teeth. You’re dizzied and light-headed, grateful to the cool glass at your back and Jungkook’s arms secure around you.

When he pulls back, with apparent effort, he rests his forehead on yours, nudges your nose with his and looks at you from under his thick, dark lashes.

“Honestly, I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he says, his voice hushed in the silence of the apartment, and then he barely brushes his lips against yours again, as if he just can’t help himself.

If you were confused earlier, you aren’t anymore. The world around you has faded to a fuzzy, black blur, eclipsed by the soft bloomings of want in your chest.

“I’ve wanted you to do that all night,” you whisper back, aware only as you’re saying it that it’s true. You have wanted him to do that. You want him to do it again and then a whole lot more.

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you, lightly, gently.

“I don’t usually do this,” he says, eyes alighting on yours for only a second before he’s looking at your lips again. “It’s not… This isn’t like me but…”

“I know,” you reply. “Me, too.”

“I feel…”

“Something.”

“Yeah.”

Your heart skips a beat when he looks at you and the world holds its breath; you almost feel time slow down, the seconds that it takes for his hands to fall from your face, glide down your body, and encircle you again stretch into minutes. The distance between your lips – not even inches – stretches far into the horizon. You almost feel each of the chambers of your heart squeeze, a rush of warmth heating your cheeks, your chest, your core.

And then his lips are on you and you’re like a Catherine wheel, spinning and sparking and wild. Time snaps back like an elastic band and you’re frantic now, all hands and lips and tongue.

You slip your fingers into his shirt, flicking open the buttons, running your hands over his body, soft and supple and flushed. His hands push your dress higher and higher, over the slope of your hips and he lifts you, pushing you against the glass and pushing his body into yours. You can feel the arousal pooled at your core and you can feel him straining against his trousers. You’re wet like you’ve been waiting all night for it, like you’ve been anticipating this very moment since you first laid eyes on him. You push his shirt to the floor, watching it float down like a white flag of surrender: surrendering yourself to him, he to you, to this, whatever this is or could be.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.”

Soft whispers tumble from you as Jungkook’s fingers slide past your underwear and press into your wet heat. Your cunt squeezes against them and your hips cant towards him as he presses his thumb against your clit. Your whimpering, whining, mewling barely drowns out the squelch of his fingers working inside you, arousal dripping down his hand. You’re climbing steadily to your peak, moaning against his mouth as he rolls his tongue with yours. You pull on his hair, his head tipping back, his throat exposed. He looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a slack jaw. Then he grins, thrumming faster, pressing harder and you’re squirming. You let go of his hair to clutch around his shoulders, holding on hard as your own head tips back, thudding against the glass.

Jungkook brings his face close to yours and nudges your nose with his, gently guiding your attention back to him. He holds your gaze as your legs quiver and shake, as your breath hitches and you close your eyes, so, so close now.

“Look at me.” His voice is low, soft, but demanding. “I want to see you… I want you to look at me when you come.”

And you do. Your eyes don’t leave his as you fall apart in his arms, pleasure coursing through you like a lightning strike. You’ve barely finished before he’s crashing his lips into you, urgent and needy and then suddenly neither of those things. He slows. He removes his fingers from your soaking wet slip and he holds you close to him, just barely grinding his hips into you. His kiss is deep, languorous, like he’s really tasting you now. The quiet moan he makes as his tongue rolls with yours makes your heart skip a beat and you’re weak. So weak that, when he drops you, lightly, your feet returning to the floor, you almost stumble, almost fall. But he’s got you.

He pushes your dress back down, smoothing it out so he can unzip it. He finally breaks your kiss as he pulls it from your shoulders, letting it slip down your arms. You’re braless and goosebumps sprinkle all over your skin, your nipples shivering to attention. You run your hands through Jungkook’s hair as he dips his head, lowers himself to kiss your neck, your chest, to run his tongue up the underside of your breast and suck your tight little bud into his mouth. The glass at your back is cold but he is so warm in front of you.

He drops to his knees, hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls them to the floor. You step out and he flings them away.

“I want to make you come again.”

He looks up at you and his eyes are wide, imploring, asking, seeking, searching and it’s all you can do to just nod. You’ve had one-night stands and hook-ups and situationships and even boyfriends who haven’t said that to you, who haven’t cared enough to try for one, let alone more.

He’s still looking at you when he puts his mouth on you and runs his tongue through your folds. You let your head fall back again, eyes to the ceiling. Jungkook grunts, the vibration against you a little shock. You look back down at him and he nods, swirling his tongue around your clit, and you understand: he wants you to look at him, he wants to see you and wants you to see him seeing you, as you have all evening. Because he does. See you. He sees you like no one else has. You can already feel it bubbling up within you. You can sense his soul reaching out to yours as yours reaches back to him. You think to yourself that you would probably have fallen in love with him even if he weren’t so good at—

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook. Fuck. Yes, like that.”

He’s fucking you with his fingers again with his mouth sealed around your clit, the soft plane of his tongue pressing against it, sucking and then lapping. You grab onto his hair, hard, grounding you, something, anything to tether you to this world as you feel yourself floating away.

He groans and you understand his instruction, having to drag your eyes back to his. His brows are furrowed, eyes shining bright. Looking into his eyes at this moment is like falling into an abyss. Tumbling and twisting, your body writhes with pleasure, shuddering against the window as you come again, a cry strangled in your throat, legs shaking and then you’re literally falling, sliding down the glass. Jungkook follows you down, his fingers still pressing against you as he kisses up your stomach, your chest, and then he’s holding you. You’re in his arms and he’s kissing you, your own arousal all over his lips and his tongue.

“You ok?” he asks, his voice thick and low.

You couldn’t speak. Could only take his face between your palms and kiss him again. He lifts you up into his lap, so you’re straddling him, knees either side of his hips, and you can feel him, pressing against his trousers, trapped and tensed. You sit down a little further and roll your hips over him; he groans into your mouth and his hands on your glutes squeeze tight.

“Jungkook,” you whisper and he whispers your name back. “Please.”

He lifts you from his lap and kneels up, hands working at his belt and his zip. He stands to shuck them down his legs and kicks them off. You look up at him and ask,

“Do you have…?”

He nods, crossing the room to his wallet on the sideboard by the door. You press your hands against the cool glass of the window, but rather than cooling you, it warms, too. There is heat all over you, burning around you.

Jungkook returns and falls to his knees, condom in hand. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and mumbles, rolling his eyes at himself as he stands once more to push them all the way down and off. You giggle, reaching out for him, rising on your knees as he slides the rubber over his length. He pulls you to your feet and cages you in against the window, lips capturing yours.

He bites down on your lower lip and you can feel him at your entrance. He’s rubbing his length along your slick slit and you’re whimpering, walls fluttering, heart racing. He breaks the kiss to look you in the eye as he pushes into you. A soft gasp leaves you and your hands circle tight around his biceps. You can feel him slow, his eyes watching you carefully now.

“No, don’t stop, don’t stop. It feels good. Please.”

He continues, still slowly, and, when he’s all the way in, he kisses you again, pressing his body against yours.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, but whatever you were about to say disappears into a moan as he drags his cock out and then pushes back in. He moans back and brings a hand to your breast, his thumb rubbing light circles against your pert nipple. You’re already not sure how you’re still standing and then he lowers his lips to your neck and sucks at just exactly the right spot. Your legs tremble and your cunt quivers and you feel his hot breath against your skin as he chuckles.

“You like that, huh?”

“Yes.”

He says no more and his lips return to the sweet spot on your neck. You cling to him, gripping tightly, every pass of the head of his dick against your g-spot a test of your strength, fading rapidly as you start to drown in him. He thrusts deep and slow with little grunts of effort, like he’s holding back.

“Jungkook, I—”

“Yes?”

He’s looking at you again and, up close like this, he takes your breath away.

“I want more. More. I-… I can’t stand, but I wan—oh.”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s grabbing you, his hands at the backs of your thighs lifting you, taking all your weight onto him. You wrap your legs around him and he moves faster now, harder, looking down at where he disappears into you. He’s more vocal, louder, as he fucks you into the window and the sound of him, his pleasure, his pleasure in you, stirs you. You’re fucked out and weak but your desire renews your force. You squeeze your walls against him and he curses.

“Shit.”

You do it again and a tiny chuckle bubbles up in his throat.

“Baby, you are dangerous. You’re—fuck, hngh—you’re going to make me come.”

He’s panting and breathy and his hair sticks to his forehead. You wrap you arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, his jaw, bite at his earlobe.

“Isn’t that the point?” you whisper.

A shudder runs through him and he growls, his grip on you tighter, even painfully tight. You pull back to look at him and his eyes are black, his jaw set, his brow furrowed. But he’s still looking at you; his eyes aren’t glazed, aren’t elsewhere, aren’t looking through you. He’s seeing you and you feel naked but not afraid, not exposed. You hold his face and kiss him and he grunts, groans; it’s open-mouthed and sloppy, your breath mingling as your tongues slide past and over each other.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours and his stare is so intense, from that alone you would know he was close. He’s cursing lightly, repeatedly, fucking you hard, and then he’s coming, too, with a shudder and an animal groan, guttural and low.

He lowers you both down to the floor and lays you down, kissing you lightly, almost politely, as he brushes your hair from your face. He turns away and stands, disposing of the used condom and grabbing the blanket from the sofa. You just watch him return to you, settling next to you on the floor, covering both your bodies.

You look at the window where your heat and sweat have condensed in an already fading cloud. You laugh and point it out; he laughs, too.

“It’s almost gone already,” he says, watching it shrink, disappear, self-effacing.

You hum. This is usually when you’d feel awkward, make a show of being polite, get up and go but you don’t want to leave; you want to stay right where you are and watch the sun rise with him. You want to yawn and stretch yourself like a cat before curling against him and sleeping through the morning. You want to kiss him both goodnight and good morning. You look at him looking at the window and imagine an entire life with him, spanning years and decades in a second. Your heart beats heavy in your chest and you wonder if he can feel it, if he feels it, too.

When he finally looks back at you, you know. He kisses you like you’re precious, gently traces the shapes of your face with featherlight fingers. You shiver and he pulls you closer into his warm body, pulls the blanket tighter around you.

“Y’know,” he says, pausing to kiss you again. “I’m really glad I went to that party.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts x reader #bts smut #mmm repost

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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lettersfromaphrodite · 11 months

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«it's high tide, baby.»

― pairing : Minho x fem!Reader ― content warnings : fantasy au, pirate au, angst with a happy ending, enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates (I know you saw it coming), isekai, LOTS of pop culture references (two aldo giovanni and giacomo’s references italian readers this is for you), magic au, mention of murder, mention of drowning, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 24k ― notes : I sure do hope you’ve read Chris’ merman fic because I’m feeding on my own lore // Ananke is meant as the greek goddess of fate // extra kudos to Black Desert for having an amazing map and kudos to me for using the videogame aesthetic because I don’t have enough creativity in me to come up with a fantasy world // I have one (1) fear and that's I'll keep adding more and more everytime I read this story because it's just so dear and precious to me // yes, yes "The Bitter Dahlia" is exactly the one mentioned in «Protect Me, My Aurora.»

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

― summary :

«I think I’ve never missed Cleo so much.» you quietly sniffled. «Your lover?» Minho questioned immediately. «My cat.» you clarified without hesitation.

“«Everything is over, now.» the Captain spoke in a confident voice, «I won’t let anyone else hurt you.» he added, before capturing his lover’s lip in a gentle kiss.” «Oh, holy fuck,» you blurted out as soon as you read that sentence, closing the book out of instinct, «holy shit, finally!» you added to yourself, almost closing the book out of excitement, completely aware about the fact that you were smiling like an idiot at no one but the now finished book in your lap but well, you couldn’t help yourself.

It was a book you’ve randomly found in the book-store next to your workplace, its cover had nothing special that immediately jumped to the eye: it was relegated in leather, some golden details that recalled the title written in beautiful handwriting. Actually, if you had to be completely honest, the detail that convinced you to buy it was the small golden stone embedded right under the title, instead of the actual plot – plot that in the end you came to adore.

«You are really lucky, this is the only copy that has been sent to us.» had said the old lady working there, making you furtherly curious and giving you another reason to buy it.

It was a love story, but it contained just the right amount of adventure as well. Christopher, a young, handsome and fearless pirate, was not only the Captain of the Golden Fleece – who was capable of intimidating anyone who saw its sails in the distance, but he had become the head of the entire commercial network that passed through all the known seas. Chris had at least 200 fleets under his command, each of them committing various raids in the name of their Captain - or some might say "the King of Pirates", and now was able to sail wherever he wanted without getting his hands dirty as he had done in the past.

During his adventures, he eventually fell in love with a girl – Leana, who was originally engaged with a navy’s soldier; after an awful lot of vicissitudes and obstacles in the path of their happiness, Christopher eventually stole her away – he’s a pirate after all, making her a member of his crew and finally allowing each other to live their so craved love story.

Of course, the Captain would have never made it alone; his seven long time friends had always been more than ready to help him and support him in every case of need.

Among his crew, you definitely had a personal favourite: Lee Minho, a young former bounty hunter enamoured with the feeling of freedom he felt while sailing that definitely made your heart race more than once. Not only he was described as handsome, with black raven hair that would almost always be tied up because he "hated the feeling of having hair in his face while being on deck" - but also not wanting to cut it short, a captivating and hypnotic gaze that let you wonder if you could reach the bottom of the sea if you ever took a dive into them, but he was also straightforward and sarcastic, a reason why Christopher found himself asking for Minho’s advice the most; despite his strong personality, he truly cared for his friends, and he considered them like a family. Chapter by chapter, you found yourself admiring his character so much that you anticipated every one of his appearances, eager to read more about him.

«Oh, Cleo, can you imagine a love like this?» you sighed dreamily, absently running your fingers through your cat’s thick fur, Cleo simply mewled at you, a faint noise that you interpreted as a proper answer, «or a life like this.» you added, your voice suddenly turning a little more hesitant, a little more lonelier. During the last few months, your life had fallen into an incredibly boring and obnoxious loop: go to work, finish your shift with an incredible amount of stress spreading through your body just to stop in order to buy groceries on your way home, see some friends once in a while, take care of your cat and repeat, repeat, repeat.

Of course, you would have felt a lot lonelier if it weren’t for Cleo: you found her sitting in front of your apartment complex on a random day two years ago and since then she started living with you, as if she had been expressively been waiting for you to find her that day.

«You always look angry, don’t you?» you cooed at her, hoisting her into your lap as to cuddle her a little closer. «Just like your mom.» you referred to yourself, shortly drowning your face in her soft fur, loudly smooching her a few times while adding some incomprehensible praises; Cleo mewled, as if she was exasperated at your behaviour and you quietly giggled, your soft laughter shifting into a sigh as your eyes fell on the book once again.

“I was really lucky to get the only copy of this,” you definitely had loved everything about the story, to the point to start fantasizing and wondering what could their next adventure be now that the crew gained a new very special member. Did Chris and Leana got married in an actual chapel or did they ask someone in their crew to randomly marry them just like Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner did? At the same time, what if they ended up recruiting more women? The thought of a stereotypical girls night on a pirate ship made you snort, but at least, Leana wouldn't have felt lonely, since living among men must have been boring at some point.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that you ended up drifting off on your couch – still uncomfortably wearing your jeans, and therefore, you definitely could not notice about the strange events occurring as soon as sleep overcame your senses.

The book you were holding in your hand seemed to be woken up by a curious kind of magic, as the golden stone began to glow in a faint light; the book opened by itself just as if it possessed personal will, and its pages quickly turned back and forth by themselves, as if it was deciding which page to read first.

The book’s golden glow gradually seemed to shine brighter and brighter, and it eventually woke you up.

«What the-» you mumbled, confused, when you felt as if someone or something was harshly tugging at your soul and all of a sudden, you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore.

The book had closed once again, politely placing itself on your coffee table; the glowing had completely disappeared, and the golden stone returned to its original plain looking appearance.

However, in what has always been your home, all traces of your presence seemed to have vanished altogether.

Suddenly drowning was definitely not something you expected to happen on a Thursday evening, moreover, how could you be drowning when you’ve been reading on your couch until few seconds ago?

At first you thought of it as an extremely vivid dream, but as soon as you tried to breathe and water started to fill your lungs, you realized that your only priority was to get to the surface as soon as you could; thankfully, you were barely beneath the surface, so you managed to get your head out of the water soon enough, while finally breathing and coughing due to the salt water you had unintentionally swallowed.

«What the fuck?!» you shouted in disbelief, quickly glancing around yourself; first of all, judging by the sun burning up in the sky, it was the middle of the day, and moreover, everywhere you turned, you couldn’t see anything but water, except for an enormous galleon blocking part of your sight.

«Man at sea!» you heard many voices shout from its deck, and soon enough, a rope was thrown in your direction.

“What kind of rescue is this, where is the coast guard?” you thought to yourself as you swam towards the rope which was peacefully floating above the surface, unsure about how you were supposed to climb up there in the first place.

However, the answer to your thoughts came pretty fast, in the form of a boy dressed in typical piratesque clothes, urging you to grab his hand; you quickly pondered your options, and between dying from hypothermia caused by the cold water or probably being abducted and eventually killed by a boy with a strange taste in clothing, you considered the latter to be the safest.

«Everything’s fine now, don’t worry.» the boy reassured you with an unexpected friendly tone, and as soon as you locked eyes with him, your heart seemed to stop; his eyes were a deep shade of blue, while his hair, eyebrows and his eyelashes were as white as fresh snow.

Although you were completely certain that you’ve never met him before, you couldn’t help but wonder why his appearance was extremely familiar to you.

«Are you okay?» «How did you end up so far from land?» «She’s trembling like a leaf, poor soul.» «Let’s just throw her back in.» «Shut up, Minho, go fetch a blanket before she freezes to death.» «Can’t you see she looks shocked? Let her breathe!» «What in the bloody hell is she wearing?» The various voices overlapped in the exact moment in which you and the snow white boy had safely climbed on deck; however, everything you could do was to look around yourself in complete astonishment.

A large group of men was working on the ship, while only seven of them and a young girl were paying attention to your arrival; your eyes quickly took in both the strangers and your surroundings, and you definitely noticed that not only they were all dressed like pirates, but the ship seemed to be built exactly like one of those you generally saw in movies, historical re-enactments or museums.

«Oh no, roleplayers.» you whined in complete deject; they exchanged a confused glance among themselves, but eventually, only one of them spoke.

«I believe you’re confused, we’re pirates.» he clarified, and once again, his features seemed to be incredibly familiar, «I’m Chris, the Captain. She is Leana, my wife, and these are my friends.» you watched with dismay as Chris ended up naming his friends just like the characters of the novel you have been reading all afternoon.

«Oh holy shit, it’s even worse, cosplayers.» you nervously rubbed your eyes, shivering every now and then because of the wind mercilessly blowing on your soaked clothes.

«Poor thing, look at her!» Leana suddenly cooed, immediately rushing at your side and taking her jacket off in order to place it on your shoulders, «She’s freezing, let’s save the introductions for later, huh?»

«What if she’s a spy?» Jisung questioned, but his option was immediately silenced by Leana’s glare.

«In the middle of the ocean, Han?» she quickly retorted with sarcasm dripping from her tone, «What if it was mutiny?» she scoffed, gently pushing you to what seemed to be the Captain’s quarter, just to quickly make you sit in front of the small wood burning stove.

The following events seemed to happen in a confusing haze, you vividly remembered Leana commenting about her unfamiliarity with both the style and the fabric of your clothes as you allowed her both to undress you and to dress you up in fresh, warm clothes that belonged to her. Of course, now you were dressed like a pirate as well.

«What do you mean, you’re from Europe?» Chris had calmly repeated your words, «What kind of place is that?» you felt like crying out of frustration at his words. Under the Captain’s request Leanahad brought you into the ship’s interrogation room, and now you were sitting there, the whole room definitely smelling like blood – the strong scent more than enough to give you a headache, with nine pairs of eyes studying every single one of your moves.

«I don’t really feel like joking right now, I really want to go back home.» you repeated with a tired voice, not really understanding what was happening; it was like you had casually walked in the set of a movie, however, a terrifying feeling of dread creeping in your soul was suggesting you that there was definitely more to it. What if these people were real, and you had managed to shift inside the book you loved so much? No, that definitely couldn’t be the case, right?

«I don’t really feel like joking either, little lady,» in an impatient tone, Minho spoke out of the blue and quickly walked next to Chris, who was sitting in front of you at the other side of the table. If your heart picked up pace in happiness at the sight of your favourite character, it started hammering in your chest in pure dread as soon as Minho harshly planted his dagger in the wooden table, right in front of your folded hands. «next up is your tongue.»

«Nice work on terrifying her, Min Min.» Felix sarcastically commented his friend’s action, noticing how you started trembling once again, but this time everyone could easily figure out that it wasn’t because of the cold any longer.

«You cut her tongue, she can't talk, it's not that hard,» someone added, and if you weren't mistaken, he must have been Hyunjin, «see why I'm the one that usually handles the interrogation part?» he added with a sinister yet smug smile, and you had to force yourself to swallow that little bit of saliva you felt in your mouth, trying to avoid eye contact with both the pirates who were so casually talking about torture and interrogations.

«What if she drank too much sea water?» Seungmin chimed in, after he had been studying your behaviour with concern, «You know, in my medical books there are plenty of examples of people suffering from amnesia due to a huge amount of shock.» he suggested, and everyone seemed to consider that it could have been your case, with the only exception for Minho, who was staring at you with a look that you could swear that had probably killed someone at some point.

«We are currently sailing the Margoria Sea,» Chris spoke again, his voice a little kinder now that he had considered Seungmin’s suggestion, «and you’re on our pirate ship, the Golden Fleece.»

“Margoria,” you thought, “of course, in this universe, she's the goddess of the waves” you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration as you tried to convince yourself not to cry, recalling the exact moment the same goddess had been mentioned in the novel.

The more you thought about it, the more the surreal possibility of you shifting inside a book seemed to be the only possible answer to your list of infinite questions, especially because if those people really were cosplayers or actors, they would have eventually broken their act due to seeing you in the verge of having a panic attack. Moreover, the author had always been extremely descriptive in every single detail of the story, and therefore you found it a little bit too much of a strange coincidence for these people to naturally have the same somatic traits as the characters you had just finished reading about. It was undeniable that the people standing in front of you were the stark copy of the ones described in the book.

Few hours later, Chris’ authoritative voice filled the Captain’s quarters, and your eyes eagerly wandered through the room; you’ve read about this moment a lot of times, Chris would summon his long time friends in his quarters and they’d discuss what to do because he valued their opinion as if it was his own.

«Just, what is she doing there?» Minho spoke suddenly, clearly referring to your presence in the quarters; due to your first meeting, you were extremely wary about meeting his gaze, let alone the possibility of crossing his path by accident.

Actually, it’s not like destiny was working in your favour, since you were nervously standing in front of the wooden wall and next to Minho. Everything about your body language exposed how nervous you were about it: your arms were crossed in front of your chest, and you kept your legs spread just a tiny bit – enough to have a slight chance to attempt to sprint away if he randomly started to chase you in order to throw you off the deck.

«I swear Chris entrusted her to me literally two seconds ago,» Felix replied, eagerly waving his hand as if it could make his point even clearer, «pay attention when the Captain is speaking!» he snapped his fingers, admonished his friend, and you found yourself exhale the faintest trace of the hint of a brief laughter through your nose.

However, much to your dismay, you quickly realized that Minho’s hearing must have been otherworldly, since the barely audible noise you made did not go unnoticed by his ears, consequently making your face turn blank as soon as you felt his gaze burning into the side of your head. Hesitantly, you slowly turned your head to your right, confirming that Minho was most definitely staring at you; out of reflex, you immediately looked away, just to glance back at him for a short second.

Minho, who had been staring at you, secretly pleased about the fact that you seemed scared enough not to try some stupid tricks on them, shortly uncrossed his arms from the front of his chest, just to slightly lean towards you: he quickly mimicked the gesture of grabbing something with his hands, while mimicking a bite with his mouth at the same time. Instinctively, you rapidly tilted your head back as you followed your survival instinct, but you heavily slammed your head against the wooden wall behind you.

«Ow!» you winced in pain, grabbing the back of your head with both hands; you were certain that the impact you just felt was more than enough to give you a headache for days, and still, despite Leana immediately rushed at your side to see if you were okay, and despite the fact that you were crouching on the floor massaging your head, Minho kept his original position, staring in front of him as if nothing had happened.

Seungmin was right behind Leana, attentively cradling your head to see if you actually managed to hurt yourself; unbeknownst to you, Seungmin was actually holding back an amused laughter, since it has definitely been a while since he met someone as clumsy as you.

A couple of days later almost everyone seemed to have accepted you as a new entry of the crew; actually, you considered yourself lucky since most of the pirates on board seemed to not even notice your presence. Of course, you ended up going along with the amnesia excuse because the whole “you look like you all popped up from a book I’ve been reading and I’m trying to understand if I’m having a very vivid dream or I ended up shifting on accident but I actually didn’t really mean it and now I want to go back.” would have been definitely too troublesome to explain. Most importantly, you didn’t feel ready to process what could have happened to you but also, you didn’t want to face the realization that you had suddenly appeared in the middle of nowhere, without a real possibility to get back home safely.

Honestly you were pretty much useless on a pirate ship, and therefore you ended up in the kitchen, either helping Felix and the other cooks in their task of preparing the food or just cleaning and preparing the room where the pirates formed small groups and took turns to have their meals.

If the truth was that you really ended up in a novel, you had to admit that everyone beside Minho acted accordingly to their character. Chris and Leana acted as two lovebirds, completely smitten with each other; you rarely saw them – let’s guess why, but they overall seemed to act friendly towards you. Leana had eagerly helped you decorate the room that had been assigned to you, it was a little small and right next to the storage room – the window was wide enough for you to escape just in case, but it was perfectly okay to you, since you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to remain on the ship for too long.

Since Leana seemed to trust you, so did Chris; despite the fact that you’ve interacted only a handful of times, he seemed as reliable as he had been portrayed in the novel.

Felix and Seungmin were definitely the ones you’ve seen the most. Felix was literally acting as your keeper, paying attention to you as if he was a concerned older brother and not someone who you had met few days earlier. Still, you could expect this from him, since he had always been described as the kindest one out of their group – beside Jeongin.

Seungmin had examined your head a concerning amount of times by now, if you were to ask him; actually, he had quickly realized that you were pretending to have headaches only when Minho was around, and he simply got along with it. He treated you with respect, even if he seemed to be a little wary of your presence. «Let’s hope you can get your memories back soon,» he would say, «so that you can return home safely.» you never answered, his words always making your heart tighten as a reflexive answer.

Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin were almost always nowhere to be seen; thanks to the author you knew that they had a gambling addiction, however, the only times you saw them they were joined by the hips, always joking around with each other – and Minho, always looking too busy to pay too much attention to you.

Jeongin was basically the miniature version of Chris: you knew that the Captain had saved him when he was still a little kid, and since then Jeongin had always followed Chris’ lead. He was the one that seemed to respect you the most, he was also absolutely certain that you must have been a Princess of a faraway land. «I’m really no one.» you would answer every time with an apologetic smile, earning a sad pout from the younger boy.

Minho, however, was openly against the idea of keeping you on board, and often suggested to throw you off the deck as soon as you started being too annoying. You couldn’t understand why he was so mean to you, and you weren’t definitely the only one to notice; more than once, the others had admonished his behaviour, reiterating the fact that he should have been a little bit nicer to you, especially after what you have been through.

«That’s exactly the point, Chris, we don’t know! She could be a siren or just a lunatic witch,» you overheard him argue with the Captain one day, «face it, if that were the case, no one would be immune to her spells, not even your beloved wife.» your hands instinctively clenched on the broomstick you were holding to sweep the floor of the corridors, and your gaze was lost somewhere in the wooden floor.

«She might as well be telling the truth,» you heard Chris answer in his usual calm tone, «I don’t want to deny her a shelter just because she lost her memories, because that sure wasn’t her fault.»

«What are we listening to?» Changbin’s voice right next to your ear almost made you jump out of your skin due to the sudden fright; his eyes widened in stupor as you almost dropped your hold on your broomstick – thing which would have definitely expose the fact that you were overhearing a very secret conversation. Luckily, Changbin’s reflexes were drastically quicker than yours, and so he collected the broomstick just in time, before handing it to you once again with an amused smirk. He placed his ear against the door, quickly connecting the animated argument to your sad expression and he gently smiled to you in an unexpected friendly manner.

«Don't worry too much about it, Ace, he’ll come around.» Changbin briefly stated before walking away, heading back towards the deck at the end of the corridor without uttering another word; you shortly stood there, speechless, staring at his withering shoulders as his silhouette gradually disappeared in the light coming from outside.

“What the hell?” you thought, incredulous: Changbin had barely spoken to you and now he decided to give you a random and most definitely sarcastic nickname and offer you words of comfort, all of a sudden?

“Something bad is definitely gonna happen,” you quickly deduced, going back to your original task; you were about to start sweeping the floor once again, before an ominous aura seemed to fill the packed space of the corridor.

“There it is,” you announced to yourself, refusing to turn around to confirm the suspicion that Minho had left Chris’ chambers, “oh, divine Xena, mighty princess forged in the heat of battle,please help me with this one,” you instinctively moved out of inertia, backing towards the nearest wall as Minho was walking towards your frame.

“Here we go, it’s him!” you dramatically thought, hugging the broomstick to your chest as if your life depended on it, the only shield between you and Minho, who was standing in front of you with his usual furious stare that magically seemed to disappear as soon as his eyes diverted from your general direction.

«I don’t know what you did to have everyone wrapped around your little finger, but that’s not gonna work with me, princess.» Minho spoke with a harsh tone, cornering you against the wall by placing his left hand next to your head; silence fell between the two of you, and you instinctively clenched your fists around the broomstick, just to be able to attempt to defend yourself in some kind of way.

Could you do self defence while using a broom? Of course. Could you defend yourself against Minho, judging the sheer force he used to plant a dagger in a thick wooden table? Of course not.

Minho spent few seconds studying your face with incredible attention, as if, if he stared hard enough, you would transform into a whole different creature, confirming his theories about you. However, Minho momentarily seemed to have forgotten the concept of personal space, because his nose brushed against yours at least twice as you were doing your best to avoid his piercing gaze.

«Now that I take a closer look, you’re definitely not as pretty as a siren.» he suddenly stated with a sly grin while raising his eyebrow, before detaching from you altogether, just to walk towards the deck’s direction.

«And you had to almost kiss me to find out?» you yelled back a little louder than intended as soon as he was at a reasonable distance; to say that you were outraged was an understatement, you were furious.

To think Minho was your favourite character when you were reading the novel, what were you, crazy?

Despite the fact that you were genuinely doing your best to avoid meeting Minho, the pirate was clearly doing the opposite, neutralizing every single one of your good purposes as the two of you seemed to keep running into each other. It didn’t matter whether you were simply doing your assigned chores or you were peacefully chatting with one of the pirates, he always seemed to find something to do in order to get on your nerves; sometimes he would just accidentally knock random things off the table so that you had to pick them up and clean them again, other times he would interrupt a conversation just to be mean at you.

Minho was definitely getting on your nerves, but you did your best not to pay too much attention to him, since you definitely had more important things to think about. Inside your heart, the growing feeling of homesickness was constantly calling for your attention; you often found yourself on the verge of tears, but it was a side of you that you were determined not to show to anyone, thing that lead you to cry yourself to sleep more than once.

The part of the crew assigned to the kitchen, of course, always had their meal before the others did, and more than once it led to your small group of friend to join, and today was not exception. Walking out of the kitchen, you saw Minho, Jeongin, Chris, Jisung and Seungmin sitting at one of the long tables in the room while eating and loudly chatting, and now that Jeongin was hastily and eagerly waving his arm to let you know that you should have sat next to him to have your quick lunch, you realized that yet another time, you couldn’t escape your fate of avoiding Minho as if he was the plague.

«May I, uh...» you walked next to Leana, who was walking towards their table as well; she immediately tilted her head towards you, listening, «May I approach the bitch?» she bursted out laughing really loudly, immediately understanding that you were talking about Minho; however, that happy and hilarious bubble of joy disappeared the same moment you heard Hyunjin’s voice right behind the both of you.

«What did you say?» never did the simple request to repeat something seem more dangerous; you swallowed, feeling your blood turn cold in the same moment the flashback of him mentioning his “interrogation habits” popped into your mind. However, the few weeks you spent living among pirates were teaching you how to build up your courage – or more like “fake it until you make it”, as someone would say.

«I said “may I approach the bench”,» you answered, pretending to be annoyed with the useless repetition of your sentence, nodding towards the long benches that you were using instead of chairs, «what did you think I said?»

The crew was incredibly hungry that day, you could easily tell from the speed at which they ate and the various groups took turns, thing that didn’t give you much occasion to chat with them as you often did; instead, you were frantically walking back and forth from the kitchen, helping two other pirates to deliver food to everyone.

“Maybe if I find a similar book I can get home,” you thought as you absently piled the dirty and empty plates on top of each other before carrying them to the kitchen, just to come back with clean ones, “where am I supposed to find a book in the open sea?” you sighed in deject, not liking the direction of your thoughts.

«I think you missed a spot, princess.» Minho’s arrogant tone caught your attention, and you watched with total unbewildrement the pirate hit the side of one of the wooden jugs placed on the tables, knocking it to the ground and spilling the water on the floor.

As if you were under a magic spell, all the traces of sadness seemed to vanish from your soul, just to be replaced by sheer anger; you were beyond furious, how dare he? He didn’t trust you, and you could understand his point of view; it pained you to admit to yourself that if you were in his shoes, you would have probably done the same. However, you could endure the teasing, you could endure everything he was putting you through but you definitely drew the line at this kind of disrespect. You closed your fist so tightly that you were absolutely sure that your fingertips would feel momentarily numb as soon as you tried to open your hands, and you were certain that your nails were digging a half crescent moon shape in your skin.

However, you and Minho were not the only one left in the room; Hyunjin, Changbin, Chris and few other crew members were not finished eating and therefore, they saw all the scene unfolding.

«Hey, fuck face!» you loudly called out, claiming both Minho and the other’s attention, «I get you feel powerful because you can swing a fucking sword, but you should learn to respect people who are working!» you stood your grounds, ignoring your heart wildly hammering in your chest and the nervousness you felt as soon as Minho stopped walking, just to turn towards you.

«You’re that interested in losing your head, huh?» Minho replied with an undecipherable gaze, quickly walking back towards you.

If there was a god out there, you were certain that they must have glanced towards your direction in that same moment, because right before Minho could close the distance between the two of you, Changbin’s shoulders appeared in your field of view.

«Calm down, buddy,» Changbin was still peacefully chewing on his food as he stopped him, placing a hand on the pirate’s chest, who tilted his head just enough to keep furiously glance at you.

«If we were still home, I would have get you arrested!» you spat, your chest tightening at the thought of your home town but also incredibly thankful to Changbin.

«Again with those stories? You sure do have flowers growing in your head, princess!» Minho immediately answered, trying to walk around Changbin, who was still pushing against his chest.

However, what no one actually expected was for you to actually try to confront Minho from up close, attempting to walk around Changbin as well; honestly, you were too furious to notice that you were about to face a pirate while completely unarmed and not knowing how to fight.

«Easy there,» Hyunjin suddenly spoke with amusement from behind your shoulders, placing his arms under your armpits just to stop you and hold you back.

«Say that to him, not to me!» you tried to free yourself without success; Hyunjin was very strong despite his slim figure and therefore, even when you kicked both your legs in the air while urging him to let you go, he didn’t move the slightest.

«Don’t you think this is the kind of energy we need on board, Binnie?» Hyunjin laughed, eagerly chatting as he had no trouble holding you back; Changbin scoffed a laugh as well, since it’s been a while since he saw Minho getting riled up that easily.

«That’s enough,» Chris’ authoritative voice seemed to be the only thing that could calm the atmosphere; «you, go back to your room.» he told you in a scolding tone.

«What?!» you whined, «I didn’t do anything!» you added, trying to wiggle out of Hyunjin’s hold once again.

«Don’t challenge my authority,» Chris shortly admonished you, his stern gaze not leaving any room to debate his decision, before turning his attention towards Minho, «you’re going to your room as well.»

«What?!» Minho asked in astonishment, not believing his Captain’s orders.

«I don’t want to see the two of you on deck until at least tomorrow morning.» Chris added, and that was your call to understand that the argument was officially over.

Hyunjin had offered to accompany you to your room, and as soon as you were about to walk out the door, you slightly turned towards Minho: you placed your index finger on your lower eyelid, tugging on the skin as you shortly sticked out your tongue as well. Still, you immediately turned around, so that you couldn’t see Changbin struggling not to laugh, reaching out to stop Minho once again, who was glancing at him with a murderous look.

“I want to go home,” you whined to yourself as soon as you were sitting on your bed once again; you laid down on your back, missing the sensation of Cleo immediately walking up and cuddle at your side. You wondered what happened back home, even though you were certain that your cat had found a way out of your apartment, since the window was still open when you had fallen asleep, however, what about your friends? Was someone worried about your sudden disappearance? Moreover, judging by the amount of days that had passed, you had most definitely lost your job.

«Ah, I hope they choose a nice pic of me if I made it to the news as a missing person.» you mumbled to yourself, your gaze lost in the wooden tiles of your ceiling.

“I could draw tiny lines on the wall to count the days I’m spending on here,” the sudden idea popped up in your mind, only for you to abandon it as quickly as it came. First of all, you didn’t have a knife – let alone a dagger or a sword, and therefore it would be impossible for you to engrave marks in the wall, most importantly, what if they found out and you had to repay for the things you’ve damaged? Those were the basic things happening back home, and although you were unsure about various dynamics of the world you were in, you didn’t want to try your luck. Chris looked scary while pissed off, and you read about how cruel he could be, you definitely needed him on your side.

“I could try to run away as soon as we reach the first port,” you wondered, but that option was discarded as well; although touching land was the only thing to confirm the shifting theory, you didn’t know what could have happened if it was the truth. Abduction and prostitution were sadly pretty much real in that world as well, and once again, you decided that the safest option was to stick around Chris and his crew; after all, what could harm you if he was in charge of basically everything and everyone sailing above the water’s surface?

Minho’s menacious glare appeared in your mind, and you reached out to grab the pillow from under your neck just to slam it against your face, “it’s not like I can throw a meteor at him, I’m not Zhongli,”, you thought, before suddenly sitting up in bed. «Who’s going to do my daily commissions in Genshin Impact now?!» you mumbled to yourself, thinking about all the time you’ve spent playing – time that of course had been wasted due to what happened.

Someone knocked on your door, and you genuinely wondered about pretending to be asleep in order to avoid giving explanation about what happened at dinner; nevertheless, you allowed the person in.

«Hi there,» Felix greeted with his usual cheerful tone, «I heard you caused quite a riot today.» he added, placing a small tray with a glass of water and a plate of stew on the small table next to your bed; you sighed, falling back to the bed and hoping that those blankets could swallow your frame and teleport you back home.

«I didn’t do anything, Felix,» you clarified, «Minho just hates me for no reason.» «Well..» «Please, don’t tell me this is the part where you say things like “he hasn’t always been like this”, or something.» you immediately added, preventing him from talking any further.

«Nah, he’s always been like this.» Felix quickly shook his head, sitting on the small mattress and next to your knees; he tapped your thigh twice, telling you to sit up so that you could eat dinner. «Keep up that attitude though, it’s funny to watch.» he chuckled, his face quietly shifting into a concerned frown as he noticed how you kept playing with your food instead of actually eating it.

Maybe from the outside your interactions with Minho were unusual enough to be considered funny, but to you they were incredibly stressful.

First of all, Minho had always been your favourite character, and you would have never imagined that he could despise your presence so much; most importantly, he had always been described as a whole different person, and you found yourself wondering why you wanted to be accepted by him so much. You were aware that late at night the dining room became the meeting point where some pirates gathered to drink and gamble, both because you had read it in the novel and because some sleepless nights you had passed in front of its door as you were walking towards the deck, hearing the echo of thunderous laughter or the loud chatter of the ones who lost and were unhappy with the rules. Sometimes the door wasn’t even completely close, and as you peeked inside on your way through the corridor, you could see Minho joke around and laugh with the others, thing that always made you feel sad and somehow, lonely.

«Aren’t you hungry?» Felix gently asked, noticing how you went silent all of a sudden. «It’s not that funny, though: he acts like I’m going to annihilate everyone while you sleep and well – he basically adores you.» you ignored his question, instead referring to the fact that he was the only one he didn’t threaten to kill anytime Lix called him “Min Min”.

«I’ll tell you a super secret secret,» Felix started to whisper, and you shifted your gaze on his lips, making sure that you could effectively understand what he was about to say, «me and Minho are half brothers.»

«What?!» you immediately shrieked out of disbelief, that was never mentioned in the novel! You clearly recalled their background stories: Minho was a bounty hunter, while Felix was… Felix… Well, he was…

“Now that I think of it, Felix’s past hasn’t been mentioned, not even once.” your questioning gaze met Felix, who eagerly nodded at the silent questions in your eyes.

«Our mother remarried,» he explained, before interrupting himself, «now that I think of it, mom and Minho’s father weren’t married – well, that’s not important.» Felix dismissively waved his hand in front of himself, and for the next hour, you had eventually started eating as you listened to his stories about him and Minho; despite all the times you wanted to clarify that “yes, I already know this part,” you kept silent, smiling at Felix’s eagerness and at the affection towards his brother that you could feel through his words.

«He’s really amazing,» he praised, «he’s always protected me since we were kids – you know, my… hair colour is a bit unusual.» he admitted, recalling the times when Minho would come home covered in bruises because he had protected Felix from being bullied.

«It’s beautiful, though,» you immediately replied, making Felix widen his eyes in sudden surprise, «you look like you've walked out of a fairy tale... and really, it suits you.» you added, making the pirate smile with a sad smile.

«I often said I could dye it, but Minho was always against the idea.» he said, but your attention was focused elsewhere.

“So, hair dye exist in this world as well?” the gears in your brain started to spin and twirl as you thought; once again, it had never been mentioned in the novel, but you thought that the author didn’t need to, since the story revolved around Chris’ point of view.

«Get some rest, princess,» Felix excused himself, collecting the now empty tray as he stood up; you nodded, the side of your lips curling into a small smile at how different the nickname sounded as it was spoken by the two brothers, «I’ll try to talk to him.» he reassured, and for a second, you decided to believe him.

Much to your dismay, nothing had changed after a week, leaving you to your usual routine; however, you had to admit that you barely saw Minho around, and when you did, you adverted your gaze before he could meet yours. It was as if, unlike the first days, he was keeping his distance as well, and you were grateful to Felix for it. “If you can’t defeat them, become their friend, some said!” you thought, “well, I failed miserably.”

Felix was now basically what you could call your best friend, as he had declared more than once; he always insisted for you to sit next to him when you were eating, and once you were finished with your daily chores, he would explain the most random things to you. Actually, you were incredibly grateful to him because you were finally able to tie a knot on a rope, thing which would have come handy if you ever decided to escape.

Most importantly, you and Felix had something really particular in common, and that was your admiration towards Chris’ and Leana’s relationship. The poor couple could have been simply standing in front of each other talking about the most random things and you would say something like «they’re so pretty I could punch myself in the face,» immediately echoed by Felix that would reply «wait for it, he’s gonna move a strand of hair behind her ear because of the wind,» and the both of you would dreamily coo at them as Chris did exactly what Felix had predicted.

Seungmin was still visiting you every now and then – mostly when you pretended that your head hurt because you saw Minho appearing out of nowhere and he was definitely too close for comfort, but nonetheless he spent most of his days in his study.

Jeongin was mostly spending his time with Seungmin, now, the older pirate insisting that he needed an assistant because he was tired to everything on his own, and Jeongin eagerly following his orders.

Jisung, Changbin and Hyunjin were now seeing you in a whole different light: the day you fearlessly challenged Minho seemed to have made you earn their respect, and they often tried to lure you into joining a gamble match with them. «Thanks, but I don’t know the rules,» you dismissively answered every time, and as soon as one of them suggested they could teach you, you immediately added that you didn’t have anything valuable you could gamble on.

Leana was more or less, an addiction to the piece of furniture in your small room; anytime she wasn’t with Chris, she would keep you company, telling you about the most various and dangerous adventures they have lived while sailing. You eagerly listened to her, often interrupting her to ask for more details, thing that she never seemed to mind, answering your question with the same eagerness. Leana’s stories were a perfect indicator for you to deduce that between what happened in the book and your arrival on the ship, at least three years seemed to have passed; years in which Chris’ domain on the sea had become even more clear.

«It’s like being on of those cruise ships; no one dares attacking us and we can do whatever we want to, I love it.» she confessed, voicing her hopes about you liking being on board as well; you didn’t trust yourself, and therefore you simply nodded.

«Come on, girls night,» Leana had announced one day as she sat on your bed, and you furrowed your eyebrows in obvious reluctance, familiar with the concept of her words; «has anyone caught your eye?» Leana’s eyes seemed to glimmer in curiosity, and you found yourself sigh in deject.

«Yes, I mean, no.» you spoke, unclear, confusing yourself as well. What were you supposed to say? You’ve never looked at anyone under that particular light, after all!

“Well, actually…” you immediately stopped the train of your thoughts: Minho was undoubtedly charming and handsome, but he was behaving like a complete jerk towards you, and therefore you sighed, resigning yourself to your fate as you met Leana’s curious gaze.

«Minho is cute, but don’t tell him I said so, I particularly like my head attached to my neck.» you confessed, panicking as you saw her eyes widen in disbelief.

«I would have bet money on Felix!» she yelled, just to lower her voice mid-sentence, staring at you in complete astonishment.

«Felix is really cute, but everything’s really very… platonic.» you explained, avoiding saying something she would have found too weird and incomprehensible like “he’s always nice andhe gives me really good vibes!”

However, Leana seemed to ponder your words about Minho, confessing that one morning, she saw Felix and Minho talking very animately, as if they were arguing about something. «Now that I think about it, it was the morning after you’ve been both confined to your room.» she added, and she confirmed as well the fact that the pirate seemed to been avoiding your presence as well.

Leana had soon returned to the Captain’s quarters, leaving you in the loneliness of your room; once again, you couldn’t sleep and therefore, you found yourself headed towards the deck of the Golden Fleece.

The night sky was clear, the stars seemed a bright blanket that made you feel a tiny bit less lonelier; you tried to smile at the thought that in your life, you had never seen so many stars due to the industrialization and the fact that there was always a source of light around the city. On your way to the deck you ended up both carrying one of the blankets in your room and stealing an apple from the storage room, and in the end you were sitting alone in a dark corner of the ship, completely hidden from the helmsman’s eyes and from the few pirates who were awake and in charge of taking care of the ship as long as the others were asleep – or gambling.

As your gaze lost itself in the darkness ahead of you, your thoughts inevitably wandered to dangerous places, and you found yourself silently crying because you missed home. Although in the past days you have done your best to avoid even the faintest traces of intrusive thoughts, it was probably time to face the truth; even though it seemed impossible, you ended up in a fantasy novel, and of course the historical period was completely different from the one you were living in, to the point of not having the comforts you were used to have in your everyday life. A phone, internet, a hairdryer, heating, a microwave… Despite the fact that you were slowly getting used to this kind of life, you madly wanted to go back home, and the thing that completely broke your heart was the fact that you highly doubted it would even be remotely possible. After all, the lady at the bookshop had clearly said that you bought the only copy of the novel, copy which was currently still on your coffee table in another dimension.

Completely engrossed in your crying session, you didn’t notice that someone had approached your trembling figure.

«See? I didn’t lie when I said you were probably a thief.» Minho’s voice shook you out of your train of thoughts, but you weren’t in the right mind to answer to his constant teasing; you stared both at him and the apple in your hand – apple that you ended up biting only once, just to wordlessly focus your gaze once again on the darkness in front of the ship.

The moon was high up in the sky, and Minho could definitely see the fact that you were crying, especially because you weren’t doing a good job to hide your occasional hiccups; he has never seen you so vulnerable, after all you’ve been arguing like dog and cat since the day they had saved you, but yet, he breathed a long sigh, before eventually walking closer to you, crouching down so that you were more or less at the same eye-level.

«Are you okay?» Minho questioned, every trace of hostility suddenly disappearing from his voice, and he saw you simply shook your head because no, you were definitely not okay. «Can I sit next to you?» he asked again, and waited for you to answer before he dared to move.

«Why, so you can throw me off deck as soon as I cry too loudly?» you spat with annoyance, and Minho scoffed as a silent answer. If he were to be honest, he wasn’t doing it for you, but for Felix; his brother had constantly told him to give you a chance, but the pirate kept ignoring him; however, for some weird reason he didn’t want to think about, the sight of you curled up against the wall just to cry your eyes out didn’t please him as he originally thought. «Yeah, something like that.» Minho shrugged, before sitting next to you. A somewhat comfortable silence fell on the corner you had been secretly occupying, a silence made of you occasionally hiccuping trying to hide a sob just to wipe your tears with part of your blanket and Minho completely silence as his brain tried to come up with a reasonable question about why you seemed so unconsolable.

«Has something happened in the kitchen? Did Felix say something bad?» Minho gently tried, even if he doubted that was the case, since Felix was the first among the people who seemed to be completely smitten with your presence; confirming his thoughts, he saw you shook your head without voicing an actual answer.

«Have you been having nightmares?» he questioned again, his left hand hesitantly scratching his left thigh; «it happens a lot, especially the first times you sail.» again, you wordlessly shook your head, and silence fell once again.

It went on for minutes, Minho coming up with the most various questions and you simply shaking your head because he never got it right.

«I miss my hairdryer.» you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

«Your… your what?» Minho quietly echoed, confusion dripping from his voice.

«My hairdryer,» you repeated, moving your right hand in the air just to mimic a general shape of one, «it’s made like this, and we use it to blow hot hair on our hair to make it dry faster, it works with electric – oh, never mind, you already think I’m a lunatic witch.» your voice trembled at the end of the sentence, and you ended up wiping more tears escaping the corner of your eyes, as Minho was staring at you with an indecipherable gaze.

«Tell me more,» he gently spoke – almost in a hesitant way, urging you to go on, «about your crazy stories, I want to hear more.»

«And give you extra reasons to make fun of me on a daily basis? No, thank you.» you bitterly answered, and Minho’s gentle smile slowly vanished from his lips. The pirate kept studying your features, pensive, and few seconds later his right hand was hovering in front of your face, his pinky finger outstretched.

«I won’t, I promise. I call truce.» he said, and for the first time you turned your head to glance at him, unconsciously smiling at the sight of a pirate using pinky promises as a way to seal official promises; it was as if you could feel your heart tremble, the sight of the Minho you used to adore while reading your favourite book was suddenly not that unreachable anymore, and something in his determined gaze illuminated by the moon made you trust him.

Unbeknownst to you, while intertwining your pinky finger with his, a little part of your fate had changed forever.

«I think I’ve never missed Cleo so much.» you quietly sniffled. «Your lover?» Minho questioned immediately. «My cat.» you clarified without hesitation.

Eventually, you and Minho shortly ended up bonding over your mutual love for cats. You described her to him, explaining that to you, she was indeed unique and beautiful; her black fur was occasionally painted with ginger spots, and her eyes were a light shade of green.

«She always looked incredibly pissed off, just like me.» you scoffed a laugh, and you heard Minho chuckle softly at your words.

«To think you were going to face me without a weapon, you sure do have some guts,» he commented, and you answered with an exasperated sigh, «you could ask Jisung to teach you a trick or two.» your head immediately turned towards him at the unexpected suggestion. Minho simply shrugged, explaining that you would be more useful on deck if something were to happen.

«I used to have three cats before I choose to sail with Chris.» he admitted then, changing the topic of your conversation, smiling to himself.

«I know.» you answered without thinking about it too much; only when you felt Minho’s inquisitive stare on your face, you panicked. Clearly you couldn’t tell him that you knew a lot of details about his life before he started being a pirate because you read it in a novel, and therefore you simply settled for a simple white lie known as: «Felix told me about it.»

«I miss my hair conditioner as well,» you admitted, «I even got the special edition with keratin – you know with the golden plastic jar and everything, and never got to use it more than twice.» for at least half of the night, you ended up explaining Minho every detail of what life was like where you were living; skyscrapers, air conditioning, electricity, supermarkets, videogames and malls, along with every kind of food you ended up craving, Minho had patiently listened to your rambles, occasionally asking about few clarifications every now and then.

«You know, princess, I still think you have flowers growing in your head.» Minho spoke after the two of you eventually managed to finish conversation topics; your heart sank to your stomach at his words, and of course, you felt like crying again.

«However…» Minho spoke again, his tone a little more firmer than before, as if he understood that his words hurt you, «your stories are a bit too much filled with details to be completely made up.»

«So?» you questioned him, glancing at him while leaning your head against the wooden surface behind your shoulders.

«So,» Minho echoed, mirroring your actions, so that you were staring at each other, «I think that somewhere in that flower field, there’s a little bit of truth.» a relieved smile erupted on your features, and you felt genuinely happy about the fact that finally Minho decided to take you seriously.

Despite the fact that you had managed to calm down, neither of you dared to move, and as you kept talking about your life, you ended up sharing your blanket with the pirate, whose hands were now as cold as ice.

Somewhere during the few hours remaining before dawn, you ended up falling asleep, unconsciously leaning against Minho’s shoulders, who didn’t move in order not to wake you up. However, as soon as the pirate saw a small glimpse of light starting to illuminate the sky as a signal of a new day, he gently picked you up just to carry you to your bedroom.

«Fucking finally, Min Min,» Felix’s groggy whisper called out from Minho’s shoulders; the younger had just woken up, and to be honest, he was convinced about being still asleep as the first thing he saw were his brother – who claimed to hate you, carrying you – who claimed to hate him, bridal style and soundly asleep towards your room. «Not a word, Lix.» Minho had simply answered, not bothering to stop.

Few days later, everyone was aware about the drastic change of Minho’s behaviour towards you, since the pirate went to completely ignore your presence to greet you occasionally. You found yourself smiling anytime it happened, your smile vanishing as soon as you could feel two different set of piercing gazes on your face; on one side, Leana was looking at you with pure excitement in her eyes, as to say «did you see it?» while on the other side, Felix was following the scene with a knowing smile, happy about his brother’s eventual change of heart.

Moreover, you had to admit to yourself that your mood was significantly better since you didn’t have to constantly watch your back, to the point where you found yourself thinking that if things kept going like this, you could have definitely got used to this new life. To be completely honest, you could already picture yourself trying to introduce some of your modern technology into this world, becoming the cliché mad scientist holed up in her laboratory, shouting a loud «it could work!» followed by a manic laughter as soon as you managed to create something useful.

Taking a small break from your daily chores, you decided to take a stroll on deck, enjoying what seemed to be the last days of summer; the days had already begun to shorten and in the back of your mind, you wondered how cold could it get on a pirate ship during winter, but you weren’t sure you wanted to know an actual answer, when out the corner of you eye, you saw them.

At first, you thought that either your mind was playing tricks on you or you were hallucinating, but once you turned your complete attention to the sea, you distinctly saw that there was a small group formed by seven girls not too far from where you were, casually sitting on some random pieces of wood – most definitely what remained of a sunken ship, while brushing their luscious hair; you narrowed your eyes as if trying to get a better view, because you could swear that all of them had a long fish tail.

“Mermaids?” you wondered; after all, you didn’t know how this world worked in the first place, and based on Minho’s accusations to you, for all you knew, they could be more than a superstition.

«Sirens!» the loud shout from the crow’s nest seemed to alert everyone, confirming that you weren’t hallucinating, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do in this situation; you saw some pirates running back to their quarters, as if it was a desperate attempt not to be lured by their voices.

Few minutes later, the situation was definitely taking a drastic and terrifying turn: some pirates were throwing themselves off deck just to try their luck swimming towards the sirens and therefore swimming towards their death, while the others kept soundlessly walking toward the railing as if they were possessed, their eyes void of any emotion.

Quirking a brow you stared at the group of sirens once again, silently admiring their beauty and their pretty tail. However something wasn’t adding up: you could clearly see their lips move, but you seemed to be the only one who couldn’t hear their chant.

Leana’s shoulder harshly bumping against yours was what made you wake up from your silent daze; like anyone else, her eyes were unfocused, and she had already thrown one leg over the railing.

«Wait, no!» yelling at her to stop, you covered her ears with your hands out of instinct, when the unthinkable happened: the fog that seemed to cloud Leana’s gaze had vanished as soon as you touched her, and she looked at both herself and you with a puzzled expression.

«What’s happening?» she questioned, confused, «why can’t I hear them?» at her question, it was as if your thoughts began to align, quickly forming a more or less clever answer; could it be that it was because you were from another dimension? You immediately tested your wild guess, wrapping around her wrist the hair tie you always kept on your wrist.

«Still nothing?» you asked, helping her safely climb back on deck, so that no one else could drag her in the water out of accident.

«I can see them singing, but I can’t hear them,» she confirmed with astonishment, glancing at the small elastic band now adorning her wrist, «is this some sort of talisman?» she questioned again but you kept silent, not sure about what you should have answered.

“Wait, if this managed to help her, this means that…”

«Leana, where are my clothes,? You know, the ones I was wearing when you found me in the sea?» you immediately questioned her: if things really were what they seemed, maybe you has a chance to save everyone.

«Come with me.» Leana immediately replied, and shortly after you both raced to the Captain’s quarters as if you were running against time.

«I have an idea, but that will make me sound like a lunatic witch» you quoted Minho, before explaining yourself, «we need to shred them in as many pieces we can and stick them inside the other’s clothes.» you kept your jeans in your hands, handing her both the cotton t-shirts you were wearing at home; however, there was no sign of mock in her eyes.

«You already saved my life, I trust you, witch or not.» she encouraged, and after nodding and each other Leana grabbed two of Chris’ daggers, and after handing one to you as well, you both ran back on deck.

“This is so wrong,” you thought, “I’m about to act like a typical heroine and I don’t have a catchphrase to say!” adrenaline was running trough your veins to the point of making you delirious, and you mentally tried to come up with an outstanding idea as fast as you could?

“How about “for Frodo”?… No, that would be plagiarism,” you kept thinking as you and Leana closed the Captain’s quarters room behind your shoulders, “I got it, “Geronimo!”… Nah, too corny.”

«I’ll take the right side and you take the left side?» Leana urged, already cutting some fabric out of your t-shirt with her dagger; she snapped you out of your thoughts, and your eyes immediately went back on the scenery in front of you.

No more than thirty pirates were left – a quarter of the crew, and much to your dismay, you noticed from the corner of your eye how Chris, Seungmin and Changbin were already in the water.

«Hey Leana, you know what we say in Europe before doing things like this?» your heart was hammering in your chest to the point you were certain it was trying to escape your body.

«Uh... May Margoria have mercy on us?» she tried, as the both of you started walking in opposite directions.

«No, no, it’s even better,» you chuckled at your own thoughts, before encouraging the both of you with a short and simple: «it’s Britney, bitch.»

From that moment, you and Leana were running like two desperate women on a mission, and you tried to ignore the pain that your heart was feeling as you were repeatedly cutting your pair of favourite jeans.

“It’s for a fucking good cause,” you thought motivating yourself, urging your legs to move faster.

Actually, if you and Leana were feeling like two heroes out of an adventure novel, the sight from the outside looked really bizarre: the deck was completely silent as the pirates were walking like zombies, and the only noise was the one made from your heels as you frantically ran back and fort, not to mention that you were occasionally screaming «tag, you’re it!» before running towards the next pirate.

Moreover, as soon as someone of the crew managed to wake up, nor you nor Leana ever stopped to explain what was going on; you just pushed a few pieces of uncommon fabric against their chest just to shout an order for them to follow. You could feel your lungs burn, and although you desperately wanted to stop and catch your breath, you saw that Minho was in the same position Leana had been in few minutes earlier and you quickly urged your legs to run faster, somehow.

“Why the fuck I never did jogging while I was home?” you internally cursed yourself, but the most important thing was that you managed to stop Minho by a harsh grip on his strong bicep. Minho’s eyes increasingly focused, and he looked at you with bewilderment; you didn’t give him time to ask anything, because you thrusted the only piece of fabric you had left in his hand.

«See this? This was my favourite pair of jeans,» you spoke, your breath ragged due to the fact that you had been running without stopping for more time than you were used to, Minho was about to question why he couldn’t hear the sirens anymore, when you interrupted him again, «let go of this damn denim fabric, and I’ll kill you.»

«What’s going on?» Minho finally questioned, swooning his leg over the railing so that he was once again safely on deck, but before you could answer, Leana had quickly walked towards you with Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and few of the pirates who had managed to wake up, still clutching the piece of fabric as instructed.

By now, you had managed to save everyone who was still on deck, however, you still had a big problem: the majority of your crew – including the Captain, was still swimming towards the sirens.

«What now?» Leana questioned, her concerned eyes locked on her husband.

«I don’t know.» your shoulders fell as you admitted disheartened, your trembling hands still desperately holding Minho’s hands over what was left of your favourite pair of jeans. «Aren’t you still wearing that thing underneath your shirt?» Leana questioned, and your right hand reflexively touched your bra over your linen shirt. “Not my Victoria’s Secret…” you thought, but Leana quickly dismissed her own idea. «It’s not like we can throw ourselves down there, we’ll never reach them in time.» she added, and a nervous silence fell once again. The pirates kept silent, not daring to interrupt your conversation with Leana; no one knew what was happening but for all they knew, they owed their life to the both of you. However, the sirens have been focusing their attention on your presence for a while, and as you were considering some stupid and wild idea out of panic, the sirens had stopped singing; the pirates in the water woke up immediately from their daze, immediately yelling to each other to swim back to the Golden Fleece, and your head started to spin with confusion.

Apparently, for whatever reason, the sirens decided they weren’t hungry anymore, and therefore decided to leave, disappearing under the surface of water. Unbeknownst to you, those sirens knew about travelers like you, for it was not the first time that someone immune to their alluring voices had defeated them.

The pirates were now climbing on deck, and if it weren’t for Minho’s arms quickly wrapping around your waist, you would have fallen on your knees as the rush of adrenaline left your body altogether.

«What a week, huh?» you joked, your voice low enough only for the pirate to hear.

«It’s monday morning, princess.» Minho absently replied, studying your exhausted features and actually concerned about the state you were in.

Needless to say, less than an hour later – as soon as everyone had changed out of their soaked clothes, you found yourself in the Captain’s quarters with nine pair of eyes studying you once again; however, this time, the atmosphere was completely different.

«Although we are grateful to you, I believe we need an explanation.» Chris simply questioned; even though his voice remained polite, you could easily notice that he was demanding the truth.

«Are you really a witch?» Hyunjin suggested curiously and without hostility; you shook your head no, and your gaze briefly locked with Minho, who gave you a short nod, as to encourage you to tell them what you had told him as well.

«I’m not a witch, I.. » you sighed, what were you supposed to say? You definitely couldn’t break out the news that they were characters from a novel, but you could definitely tell them part of the truth, «I’m from another world. Or just another dimension, I don’t know. The thing is, at home everything works very different from here and… I really don’t know what to say. I ended up falling asleep in my house and waking up in the sea, right before you saved me.»

The room was silent for some seconds, before they eventually started discussing your explanation, but overall, everyone seemed to believe you.

«We are in your debt.» Chris announced, standing up from his chair, and you felt nervous all of a sudden; you loved his character and how reliable he was despite being a pirate, however, you always thought that he was a little bit too dramatic, especially in these kind of situations.

«No, no. We’re good buddy, really.» you anxiously waved your hands in front of you, as if to shake away the thought of having a whole crew of pirates indebted to you, «besides, you saved me first, I returned the favor, we’re even.»

«At least, allow us to help you!» Leana insisted, reiterating the fact that if they were alive was exclusively because of you.

«Do you remember how you ended up here?» Seungmin added, agreeing with Leana.

«I bought a book – a very specific one, and somehow I ended up shifting.»you had shortly explained; the information sent them into another brief discussion among themselves.

«Maybe fate is really on your side,» Chris commented, «we’ll be arriving to O’dyllita in few days; the capital – O’draxxia is known for having the biggest and best-stocked library of all known land.» the Captain explained that you could try visit there, to see if you could find anything regarding shifting dimension.

«Of course, if you don’t, you’ll be welcome to stay with us!» Jeongin had quickly added, and you found yourself nodding at his eagerness, thanking everyone else as well.

«Another thing,» Leana suddenly spoke, as if a thought had suddenly came to her mind, «who is that “Britney” you mentioned earlier? Is she a goddess from your world?» she innocently questioned, but you couldn’t help but find yourself laughing at the absurdity of the situation you got yourself in.

«More or less.» you admitted, and she seemed content with the answer.

The day had eventually fallen back into the same routine rather quickly, making you realize that this kind of situations weren’t that uncommon; however, every now and then some of the pirates would greet you, thanking you for saving their life before going on with their day.

«Excuse me, princess,» an unfamiliar voice called out, and you immediately turned your head. One of the pirates was standing not so far from you; he was definitely older than you, even if despite his youthful appearance his beard and his hair was almost completely grey. He hesitantly outstretched his hand towards you, and you curiously examined the small necklace in the palm of his hand. It was definitely plain looking, a thin looking chord with a too much familiar charm attached to it; without thinking, you took a step forward to take a better look.

Turns out – for the second time that day, that you weren’t hallucinating things: the small charm was indeed a piece of fabric from your clothes, now neatly braided together as to form a tiny charm.

«My old man was a tailor, so I learned a thing or two from him,» you patiently glanced at him, waiting for him to explain himself further as you glanced back and forth from his face to his hand, «I ended up making a talisman for everyone out of the fabric you gave us, since the Captain and Leana explained to us what you did fpr us,» you kept silent, not understanding why he was handing one to you as well, «I know you don’t need one, but we want you to have one as well.»

«“We”?» you echoed; glancing around, you noticed that few other pirates were definitely pretending to do their chores just to curiously overlook the situation, wondering what your reaction might have been.

«It’s a way to tell you that you’re in the crew,» Leana excitedly spoke, appearing out of nowhere and hugging your shoulder, «you saved a whole lot of pirates, you know what it means? You’re a pirate, love.»

«What?» you questioned, hesitantly reaching out to grab the necklace from the pirate’s outstretched hand, who thanked you for accepting his humble gift.

“Holy shit, I’m the hero of the day,” you thought, trying to process the fact that a pirate had just thanked you for accepting a necklace made out of clothes from another dimension.

«For your information,» Felix’s sudden deep voice made you turn around in surprise, since the new information had made your head spin, «it was a unanimous decision.» he clarified; as you happened to lock gaze with Minho, he simply winked at you with a mischievous smile, and you could swear that for the first time, you felt the butterflies in your stomach do somersaults.

The secret escapades you occasionally had with Minho during the night ended up being a habit, and as the weather started to become colder, you eventually decided to move things to your room; more than once, you and Minho ended up falling asleep after nights spent talking about the most various topics and every time, Minho would wake up before dawn just to sneak back to his room.

«Do you still think I’m a lunatic siren?» you quietly mumbled one night, quite scared of the possible affirmative answer. Minho was sitting opposite of you on your bed, your knees almost brushing against each other’s.

«I don’t.» Minho honestly answered after what seemed to be an eternal silence; he was still staring at you with an indecipherable gaze that made you feel extremely small, but it was significantly softer now. You were certain that something in your relationship with Minho had drastically changed since the night he found you crying alone, and somehow, even if you didn’t want to be seen in such a vulnerable state, you were happy he was the one who found you nonetheless.

Above all – most importantly, since Minho’s behaviour towards you had changed and gradually started to become softer, you could swear you felt your feelings drift towards him at a slow but steady speed. To state the obvious, he was handsome, and you often found yourself looking at him as he was talking with the others on deck, the wind blowing through his hair and his clothes making him look like a runaway Prince from a fairytale; he was also funny and an extremely good listener, and the more you spent time together, the more your heart would fill with feelings for him, just like a slow tide at noon.

«Do you believe me, then?» you mumbled, as if you were trying your luck; despite you told everyone that you came from another dimension, the topic of your conversations with Minho were a secret, and he was completely aware about that. Even though you desperately wanted him to believe your words, you couldn’t help but trying to imagine how you would react if you were in Minho’s shoes and of course, you had to admit that you would have your good doses of suspicions as well.

«I’m not really sure I can understand everything you tell me,» he admitted, «but I really want to try.» you found yourself genuinely smiling at his words.

A comfortable silence fell once again, and you searched for Minho’s eyes in the partial darkness of the place; three small candles were lightning up the room, creating an intimate atmosphere while allowing you to see each other just enough. «Thank you, Min Min.» you quietly mumbled, now definitely trying your luck; you knew that the only person allowed to call him like that was Felix, and although your relationship was completely different from how it started, you were certain that he would admonish you, telling you not to call him like that.

However, Minho’s reaction was definitely unexpected; his eyes met yours in less than a second, and despite the little lighting in the room, you could clearly see a sudden blush adorning both his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

«Wait, did you just…? No, nevermind,» Minho quickly dismissed, his unexpected flustered state was more than enough to make your cheeks flare up as well, «let’s suppose you ended up coming here from another dimension, why do you think it happened?» the conversation took another bittersweet turn, and you went back staring at your knees.

«I have no idea.» you confessed, disheartened, since you had wondered about that a concerning amount of times as well.

«Do you want to go back?» Minho questioned out of curiosity; he had immediately noticed how you eventually managed to find your place among the crew, and how you got along with everyone.

«I can’t even explain how much I want to.» you admitted, and before you could actually realize it, tears had started to escape your eyes.

«Hey, don’t cry, I’m sorry I brought that up,» Minho seemed to move towards you as if he had been hurt by a sudden static, «I didn’t want to make you cry.» he mumbled again, wiping your tears away as gently as he could, touching you as if you were made of frail glass despite his usual roughness. Eventually, he placed your pillow over his lap and you let him adjust your position enough that you could lay your head over it.

Minho kept gently stroking your hair with clumsy yet gentle movements – clearly unfamiliar with intimacy, lulling you to sleep while mumbling that «it’s okay, I’ll help you find a way,» or even «don’t cry, pretty princess, you’re safe now.»

That night was the first time that you and Minho willingly got so close physically, and you never expected for his touch to feel as comforting as it did; although you had stopped crying few minutes after you were laying on his lap, you didn’t want for that interaction to stop, and therefore you laid there, greedily taking all the unexpected affection Minho was showering you with.

Two days later, you were officially touching land; two days later, you were completely certain about the fact that you had shifted dimension – since there was a tiny part of your heart that still hoped you were having a really weird dream.

The port was large and full of people busy working; you looked around in amazement admiring everything: the small stalls of the market a little further on, people’s clothes, the type of architecture of the houses… However, something didn’t add up once again. There were various wooden signs hanging on the stalls, price indicators or more simply indicators of what could be found in each one of them, and despite the fact that the alphabet was a strange combination o weird symbols you’ve never seen in your life, you could understand them; fabrics, groceries, swords, you could read everything, was it another special ability you gained while shifting? “This is crazy,” you thought as you kept looking around yourself, “it’s like I chosen a default language in a videogame.”

Minho seemed to have noticed the puzzled expression on your face as you were glancing around, and quickly got to your side. «Not like it’s important for us, but can you read and write?» he questioned, watching as you hesitantly nodded at him.

«I’m not sure about the writing part,» you answered, looking around and not quite believing your eyes, «but it turns out I can read!»

«That’s good,» Minho’s sudden gentle smile made you feel incredibly flustered, and you shortly played with your fingertips since you didn’t know what you were supposed to answer, «I’ll see you tonight, then.» he added, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Before you could question his words, Leana and Chris had joined you, the latter informing you that he had already booked a carriage for both you and Leana.

“That’s it? They’re going to leave me here?” you met Minho’s gaze, just to switch it quickly towards Leana, who had reached out to hold your hand, gently tugging you towards her.

«I believe someone forgot to tell you,» she said, admonishing Minho with a stern gaze, «O’draxxia, the Capital, is a city in which men cannot enter, meaning that we have all the day for ourselves!»

The carriage ride lasted a little more than an hour, and both you and Leana kept staring out of the window, amazed by the scenery surrounding the two of you; it was the first time for Leana as well to venture into O’dyllita, and just like you, she was overly excited to finally visit O’draxxia, since she had often heard about it.

«From what I know, almost everyone in the city is a priestess,» she had explained, the two of you never looking at each other since your attention was completely engrossed towards opposite directions, «and they say the library is so huge that there are pillars as big as towers that are used as bookshelves!»

Despite the dense and rich vegetation, the landscape seemed to have a tremendously lonely air; in the distance you could see ruins of old structures that looked like castles or fortresses, clearly uninhabited and reclaimed by vegetation. Overall, the landscape almost seemed fiabesque, even if you couldn’t glimpse a trace of a living soul for kilometres. Just as Leana had said, O’draxxia was entirely populated by women, and all of them looked mesmerizing and stunning; some of them greeted you and Leana with a court nod, just like they did with the other women that were visiting the city. Despite the fact that the city was populated and animated by the priestesses and occasional tourists, the city gave you a serene yet lonely feeling. The houses were simple and elegant, made of grey bricks with bright green plants growing along the walls, covering some parts with elegant red and orange flowers. Both you and Leana followed one of the priestess’ indications to reach the library, as the two of you kept glancing around in utter wonder as you were walking.

«I’m really glad we get along,» Leana spoke out of the blue as you were strolling around town, headed towards the library, interlocking her arm with yours; you sent her a glance, only to start once again to focus on the unfamiliar scenery in front of your eyes, «we tried to let other girls on our ship, but it didn’t end well.»

«Why not?» you questioned out of curiosity, your gaze still focused on the unfamiliar flowers decorating the streets; the novel you’ve read ended as soon as Chris and Leana got their happy ending, so her words were definitely something you didn’t know about.

«They ended up liking Chris a little bit too much, and you know…» the innocent smile on Leana’s lips was a stark contrast to the gesture she made: she ran her index finger over her neck horizontally, and you suddenly widened your eyes, gulping nervously.

«You… did you kill them?» you whispered, only for her ears to hear, not quite knowing how to feel about it.

«And threw them in the sea,» she proudly clarified with a wink, «for all I know, they could be the sirens that attacked us.» her tone was as nonchalant as if she was talking about the weather, and you furrowed your eyebrows, familiar with what she was implying, since you clearly recalled the author mentioning it once.

Apparently, mermaids – or mostly known as sirens, were the women thrown off ships because of the common belief about “having a woman on boat brings bad luck”, and therefore, as those poor women sank to the bottom of the sea, they committed themselves to their rage and their desire of revenge. You clearly remember how that paragraph made you quite uncomfortable, empathizing with those women as they rightfully wanted to take revenge on the people that killed them without reason. Moreover, the author described how they started to change underwater, their lungs adapting to the water until they could breathe and their tied legs eventually became a tail over time. They drowned sailors and pirates in revenge, but especially, they seem to target the crew that did them wrong, until they could see the remaining of their ships at the bottom of the sea.

All of a sudden, one of your first conversations with Leana came to your mind. «So, what do you think about Chris?» she had questioned with an earnest smile, the both of you sitting on deck as you watched him ordering the others around.

«He’s awesome,» you immediately answered, excitedly, «Felix told me he’s in charge of each route of the whole sea, and he’s basically around my age. He’s really awesome for that!» you had excitedly explained, avoiding to mention too intricate details you read in the novel.

«He really is, don’t steal him from me though!» she had laughed back then, gently nudging your shoulders with hers in an almost friendly gesture.

«I wouldn’t dare,» you immediately scoffed, «you’re basically the perfect match! moreover, he’s not really my type.»

Only now you realized all the things that could have gone so incredibly wrong if your interaction had gone wrong back then, and you glanced at her once again. Leana was now gazing around the town in amazement, since you knew that she had never been here as well; you instinctively scoffed a laugh, to thing that you believed Minho was the biggest threat among the crew.

Not to mention that the surprises were definitely not over; shortly after, Leana asked you if you believed in soulmates.

«I think I do,» you confessed; it was definitely one of your favourite genres to read about, but you couldn’t admit that to her, «why?»

«I’ve been thinking about it lately, but I never had anyone to talk about it…» she admitted.

“I wonder why,” you silently commented, but kept silent.

«Sometimes I have the feeling that me and Chris were meant to be, you know?» she fondly smiled, her gaze lost somewhere in the scenery around the two of you as she was probably recalling one of the various memories she had created with her husband; you were about to answer something encouraging and motivational, when her next words definitely made your voice die in your throat. «I mean, I didn’t even like Chris when he brought me on the ship, let alone if I could imagine myself falling in love with him or even marrying him.» she admitted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait a fucking minute now,”

«What?» you asked in complete disbelief. Once again, you perfectly recalled you read that Chris and Leana were in love before she got romantically and dramatically stolen away from him; to be precise, Leana was engaged to another man, who she didn’t love.

However, Leana was standing in front of you, telling you a completely different part of the story, making you question if the things you’ve read on your couch were correct in the first place.

«I was engaged with an officer of the navy, and I loathed pirates at first; I accepted to go with Chris because I agreed with my fiancée that I would have made Chris vulnerable in some way.» Leana hesitantly confessed, and you couldn’t bring yourself to find an actual reply, «in the end I fell for him little by little, to the point where I couldn’t imagine my life without him.»

“What the hell,” you thought; you had stopped walking altogether, and were simply standing still in silence, a whirlwind of thoughts floating around your head as you were staring at Leana. You never read something like this in the book, but if we had to be honest, the book was following Chris’ point of view, but again, by the way Leana was described, she was meant to be the typical damsel in distress that runs away from an unhappy relationship to find her love.

However, in front of you stood Leana, a damsel that was very not in distress, a damsel who had a concerning series of murders weighting on her shoulders, whose original plan was to serve Chris’ head to the navy.

«I’m glad you married him,» you ended up blurting out, «you look really cute together.» Leana loudly laughed at your unexpected comment, and as the two of you started walking again, she hugged your arm a little closer to her side.

«Wanna know who’s cute?» her teasing tone made you sigh out of reflex, not sure whether you wanted to know the answer to her question, «You and Min Min.» she chanted, making you whine as an answer.

«I don’t like him like that, let’s just – let’s talk about it another time, okay?» you pleaded, hoping that she would fall for your suggestion so that you could keep avoiding the topic forever.

The moment you stepped in front of the library’s entrance, you couldn’t believe your eyes: it was as if a huge castle had been redecorated just to serve a new and better purpose. Leana didn’t lie when she said about the pillars being huge, and the more you ventured in, the more you felt overwhelmed; you loved books, and for a second, you thought that you could become a priestess just to have a chance to read every single book you could see, even if it would have took literally a lifetime. In the end, you ended up asking to a priestess for help, since you would have taken at least a whole day in order to find some useful information without asking for help.

«Books about teleportation?» the priestess had repeated your words, as if making sure she heard you loud and clear; you hesitantly nodded, feeling incredibly small under her gaze; she eventually nodded at the two of you, asking to follow her. Needless to say, you ended up walking your way on the stairs around one of the pillars, just to reach the highest bookshelf.

«It’s been a while since someone asked for that,» she said, trying to make conversation with the two of you, but only Leana was answering her various questions, since you were way too nervous to speak. As you reached the bookshelf, your shoulders immediately lowered in deject; there were only four books about teleportation, but no one of them were like the one you brought.

«Sadly, we only have these ones.» the priestess excused herself, quickly taking notice of your saddened expression; you immediately tried to smile, shaking your head and answering that it was okay.

«Are you sure you’re okay?» Leana whispered to you, as soon as the priestess begun to walk down the stairs on her own and was now out of sight; your gaze was still on the books, which you eventually tried to examine.

What if the cover was different because you were in a different dimension? However, as your fingers leafed through the pages, you couldn’t understand your feelings; you almost seemed happy about the fact that your task had failed, as if what you really wanted was to remain into this world.

«I am,» you nodded, seeing Leana’s concern vanish from her features, «I really am.»

The fact that your mission had failed meant only one thing: you and Leana were free to curiously look around as you pleased, and that’s exactly what you did. At the end of the day, once you were back in the carriage, you could swear you almost had a headache due to all the informations the both of you had tried to assimilate in your brain.

«What was that one again? Flat parsley and saffron?» she mumbled, massaging the side of her head.

«This planet is not flat was the first part,» you tiredly answered, mimicking her actions, «I don’t know where you got the parsley and saffron thing from.»

«It was the recipes book I wanted to steal.» she urged, trying to give you another hint, as if you hadn’t read an infinite quantitative of books within few hours.

«Oh, that one,» you hummed, recalling the moment where Leana had tried to see if the recipes book would fit under her shirt, saying that Felix would have loved it, «it was the recipe of saffron rice… There was no parsley, though.»

When you got off the carriage, Minho and Chris exchanged a quizzical glance as they saw the two of you look exhausted; both of you were dragging your feet towards them, talking with a flat tone about how amazing your day had been.

«Found anything?» Minho questioned, ignoring how his heart was beating in a silent hope that you didn’t manage to find the book you were looking for; you kept walking, silently shaking your head. Minho didn’t say anything as he walked up next to you; the pirate breathed a soft sigh, swinging his arm around your shoulders and instinctively you hugged his waist, leaning your head towards his shoulder.

«You’ll find it.» you heard Minho’s reassuring tone, and you shrugged in a silent answer.

“I think it will be okay, even if I don’t.” you secretly thought, glancing at the pirate walking next to you.

Out of your sight, Chris and Leana were glancing both at you and Minho, before looking at each other.

«Am I hallucinating?» Chris questioned his wife; he knew that things between you and the pirate had improved, but he didn’t imagine they had improved that much.

«I think we’ll be celebrating another marriage soon.» Leana sighed, fondly smiling at the two of you. «“I don’t like Minho”, my ass.» she scoffed, mumbling to herself as an amused smirk erupted on her lips, recalling the moment you denied liking the pirate.

That night, you found out that Chris not only owned every single soul sailing above the sea, he also owned few taverns scattered around the land as well.

You and the others had ended up in the courtyard of a local tavern – the Bitter Dahlia, the musicians animatedly creating a joyful atmosphere as few people had eventually started to dance. You had let yourself convince to try a whole lot different kind of drinks by Hyunjin, and now you were tipsily strolling around the courtyard with a pint of beer in your hand, and thankfully,��Minho had easily noticed it; that’s why as soon as you walked past him in order to find Felix, he reached out, placing his hand on your right shoulder and tugging you close to his body, your back pressed against his chest. You didn’t realize it was Minho at first, you simply pouted because someone was stopping you all of a sudden; when you decided to find out who was attached to the arm blocking your path you giggled as soon as you saw Minho’s face, and let him pull you closer to him.

Minho didn’t say anything, and neither did you – nor did you move away in the first place.

«I think you drank too much, princess,» his hoarse voice – probably affected by the drinks he had, spoke right against your ear, and you instinctively crossed your ankles just to press your thighs together; you let him take the pint of beer from your hand, his arm eventually found his way around your waist, and he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

«Felix!» you giggled, catching a hold of the boy’s forearm as soon as you saw him walk by, tugging him towards both you and Minho, «Look at them,» you excitedly spoke, «look at them!» you urged again, giggling excitedly as you obviously forgot that Minho was right behind you and therefore he could hear everything.

Even if he was in a worse state than you were, it didn’t take a genius for Felix to understand who you were talking about, and he followed your glance towards the small group of couples that were dancing; of course Chris and Leana were there, and of course you and Felix had felt the need to talk about how wonderful and amazing they looked.

«They’re both stumbling on their feet,» Minho had stated from behind you, holding your waist a little firmer, and you suddenly reminded that he had been unconsciously made part of your secret conversations with Felix, «they’re really drunk, like – three sheets to the wind drunk.» he clarified, amused with your behaviour.

«You don’t understand,» you quickly answered, your hand flying on top of the one the pirate had placed on your hip, «look at -» your voice vanished from your throat as soon as you turned your head towards him, and instead, your heart picked up pace at a concerning speed; Minho’s face was millimetres from yours, his gaze burning into yours, «them.» you eventually finished, your voice barely above a whisper. You and Minho had already been close enough to kiss once, but to say that the situation was completely different would be an understatement.

If back then neither you nor Minho would have considered the option to kiss the other – let alone being attracted to each other, to this day things had drastically changed. Even if you blamed it on the alcohol, you were very much aware about the fact that you would have loved to kiss him; the fact that Minho’s gaze kept shifting between your eyes and your lips clearly told you that your desire was reciprocated.

“If this was a movie we would make out while Céline Dion was singing her heart out in the background,” you drunkenly thought, “and all I get is drunk bards play the tarantella”.

«Well, this is something unexpected!» Jisung’s loud voice made you and Minho immediately turn your head towards him, and much to your embarrassment, he wasn’t alone; of course Changbin and Hyunjin were with him.

«She’s tipsy, I didn’t want her to fall over.» Minho had immediately answered, his voice a little bit too defensive if you were to ask Hyunjin, who carefully – and drunkenly, studied his expression with a sly smirk.

«And the empty chair next to you was claimed by a ghost?» Jisung questioned the pirate, who rolled his eyes without answering.

However, the worst still had to happen, because in that very moment, Leana seemed to appear out of thin air, as if she had magically listened to the conversation while she was dancing with her husband.

«You didn’t hear it from me,» Leana loudly announced as if you and Minho weren’t there, «but when we returned from O’draxxia, Minho straight up hugged her.» You felt Minho bury his forehead in the crook of your neck, and you shortly met Felix’s gaze, who was looking at you with a drunk dazed smile: «We better talk about this!» he said.

«And, he also kissed her forehead.» Leana lied, getting drunk shouts of surprise from your friends, and you knew that as soon as you got back on the ship, you and Minho would become the most interesting topic among the crew.

«Want to scoot over?» Minho spoke against your ear once again, and you found your mind drifting towards unholy thoughts before you could stop yourself; his question was sincere, and as he voiced it, he started to move his arm away from your hip. However, you didn’t bother to voice an answer; since your hand was still placed above his, you pushed it more firmly against your hip, purposely intertwining your fingers together.

As you felt Minho’s lips hovering above the exposed skin of your shoulder in a barely perceptible kiss, you could swear that all the noise coming from the loud party around the two of you had been ignored from your brain.

Back on the Golden Fleece, everything seemed to have fallen back to the usual routine, with the only addiction that your friends had decided to constantly tease you and Minho about your almost kiss.

Of course, even if three days had passed since that night and Minho had visited your bedroom as always, no one dared to approach the topic, and you kept dancing on your tiptoes around each other. However, what’s a princess without a fairy godmother?

That evening, right after dinner, Felix had bursted into your room unannounced, somewhat expecting Leana’s presence as well; the two of them were casually sitting on your bed, ignoring the fact that you were curled up under the covers, refusing to get out and face them.

«Well?» Felix urged, lowering the blanket just to expose your face; you hissed like a stray cat, but you quickly understood that neither of them was going to leave without an answer to the same question.

«I don’t have anything to say,» you stubbornly said, and you heard Leana snort.

«Okay, we’ll go first:» she spoke, leaning towards you, «I was drunk but I sure do have eyes, girl.» she spoke with an alluring tone, and you tried to roll over the opposite side in order not to hear her, «and my eyes are telling me that you like Minho, and Minho likes you.» choosing to groan instead of answer, Felix saw an opportunity to chime in.

«You were still dancing when it happened, but they almost kissed – like, kissed.» Felix added, empathizing the last part of his sentence, and Leana almost shrieked in disbelief, her offended voice questioning why you didn’t tell her such an important and fundamental detail.

«Did you tell him?» Felix questioned, just to add the question you didn’t dare to ask yourself, «Oh… Do you still want to go back home?» You eventually threw the blanket off your face hearing that, meeting your friends’ eyes as your face was filled with unsure doubt; you never thought it would have happened, but you had to admit to yourself that you were happy. You had friends, you felt accepted, and you managed to have fun thanks to your friends, who cherished you. Moreover…

«I don’t really want to hurt your feelings,» Leana suddenly spoke, interrupting your thoughts, «but when we were in O’draxxia and you didn’t find the book, you almost looked… relieved.» your gaze met, and you realized you had a problem: your heart was clearly telling that you wanted to stay there, in that absurd world you’ve read about one random afternoon.

When you met Felix’s gaze, you realized you had another problem, maybe a bigger one than the previous one: you liked Minho. Well, of course you already knew that, since he was your favourite character of the novel; however, liking the real Minho, the one daily standing in front of you, the one who went from threatening to throw you overboard to gently caress your hair until you fell asleep was a different kind of thing.

«I think I need a second.» you admitted with a sigh, staring at the wooden tiles on the ceiling,

“Let’s suppose I like him,” you thought, “I don’t think he actually likes me, he was probably tipsy,” you bit the inner part of your cheek, “what if he likes me and I like him and I find the book?” you scratched the back of your neck out of frustration, ignoring the fact that you wanted to scream, “what do I do?”

«Well, you could start with a simple “I think I have feelings for you and I don’t think I want to go back any longer”» Felix gently suggested, and as your gaze flew towards his, you realized that you had been unconsciously voicing your thoughts all along.

The same moment Felix was heading towards your room, Minho was heading towards the dining room, knowing that he would have found what he was looking for. The heavy smell of smoke and alcohol filled his nostrils, as he approached his friends’ table quietly.

«Loverboy decided to ditch his girl to embrace his old habits?» Chris glanced at him, quirking an eyebrow with a mischievous smile.

«I’m coming here in spite of myself, but I… have to.» Minho spoke in a dramatic tone that made Chris snort, waiting for his friend to tell them what was going through his mind, «I think I might like her.»

«We knew it already,» Hyunjin replied with no interest, his eyes still glued on his cards, admonishing Jisung because he was trying to sneak some of the coins off the table and inside his sleeve; Minho stared at his friend with stupor, but Hyunjin seemed too focused on their match to pay attention to his friend.

«"Like her" as in, “I want to hold your hand under the moonlight”,» Changbin – the only one beside Chris who was listening to Minho, suggested, «or “I want to ravish you until you can’t stand”?»

Minho didn’t answer immediately, choosing to think about it for a while, even if he didn’t really have to; he undoubtedly found you attractive, and over time, he found himself slowly getting incredibly soft for you, to the point where he would glance around at random moments of the day just to see what you were doing.

The more Minho’s silence went on, the more his friends had gradually stopped focusing on their match in order to look at him with curiosity and malice, enjoying how the pirate’s face gradually got flustered.

«As in… both.» Minho confessed, making his friends hum and mumble in acknowledgement.

«Ah! … Well, we knew that already.» Hyunjin replied again, his sharp gaze once again back to the table in front of them.

«What do you mean?» Minho asked quizzically, since it was the second time his friend had mentioned it.

«Yeah, well, remember when Jisung was teaching her the basic of self defence?» Seungmin – who had kept silent until then, asked making Minho immediately nod, how could he forget that day? Jisung had been trying to teach you a few simple movements for what seemed to be hours, but in the end, you kept doing stupid and predictable mistakes because you seemed to be too tense to use a dagger – let alone a sword.

«Leave it, Han, she’ll end up stabbing herself by mistake.» he had told his friend with an arrogant tone, and he clearly remembered the flustered expression on your face. As always, you tried to fight back, but this time it was a little bit different; that’s how you ended up chasing Minho through the deck while screaming «I’ll fucking kill you, I swear!» until Changbin decided to stop you by stopping you mid run.

«What about it?» Minho asked again, not understanding what his friend wanted to imply.

«Felix and few other saw you laughing,» Seungmin added, «therefore, it was just a matter of time.»

Minho placed his elbow on the table and roughly massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to analyse the situation he was in: he liked you, but what happened few nights ago was just a result of the both of you being tipsy, and moreover, he knew that you wanted to go back home. What was he supposed to do?

«I’m not an expert, but try with a simple “I like you, please stay here with me”.» Jisung had spoken as if he could read his thoughts; only then Minho realized that he had never been silent in the first place.

Minho had eventually joined you in your bedroom few hours after Felix and Leana had left, even if you had already stated that he either fell asleep or he was spending the night gambling with the others. You seemed to miss his presence more than you usually did, especially because that night you were freezing: no matter how many blankets you were laying under, you just didn’t seem to warm up.

“It wouldn’t be punk rock for me to die like this,” you thought, breathing in your joined fists as you tried to ignore the constant shivers of your body.

A familiar knock on the door caught your attention, and as soon as you recognized Minho’s voice whispering his greetings, you had to physically stop yourself from asking him to join you under the covers so that he could warm you up.

Unlike you, Minho didn’t seem to mind the cold that much, but nonetheless he quickly walked up to you, pressing the palm of his hand to your forehead just in case you had a fever.

«I’m genuinely wondering how the hell you manage to live like this.» you broke the silence, your jaw trembling because of the sheer cold; although you tried not to think to the accommodation of your original life, your mind couldn’t help but wander to your beloved electric heater, your faithful companions during winter.

«You just ... get used to it?» Minho questioned back, not really able to give you an actual answer; of course, during the first years he spent sailing he was in the same situation as you – everyone had, but he eventually got used to it. Minho sat on the edge of your bed, mindlessly running his fingertips through your hair – a simple yet intimate gesture he had come to love.

«I can hear flowers blooming in that flower field,» he smugly commented the fact that you were keeping silent, and you clicked your tongue, asking what he meant, «what did you use in your world to keep warm?» he curiously questioned, and your heart soared at the realization that he was honestly and genuinely interested in your stories.

However, you were too cold for your brain to function properly, and you ended up talking about the concept of the electric heating in a very confusing way; nonetheless, Minho didn’t seem to mind you words, for his concern had increasingly risen.

«Hey,» the pirate interrupted your explanation, «are you sure you don’t want another blanket?» despite the fact that you were doing your best, he still noticed the occasional shivers and clattering of your teeth as soon as you stopped speaking.

«It’s okay,» you reassured him, «I used all the blankets Leana gave me… I’ll warm up eventually.» you answered hopefully, but Minho didn’t answer immediately; instead, he reached out, shortly enveloping your hand with his just to comment that it was as if you had stuck your hand into ice.

«Come here,» Minho said, stretching over your legs and fully sitting on your bed with his back against the wall, widening his legs so that he could form a space for you to sit in; you kept still in amazed astonishment, not quite trusting your thoughts on the hypothesis that Minho wanted to cuddle.

«Are you gonna kill me?» you blurted out, for your frozen brain decided it was the most likely solution.

«Quit that, princess,» he clicked his tongue, urging you to come closer, «you know we’re past that.» folding all your blankets around your shape, you slowly crawled in the space he made for you, trying not to lose the small amount of warmth you had created; you immediately tensed up, sitting straight and clutching the blankets closer to your body.

Since the night you almost kissed, you had never been so close to Minho, and for some reason, it was enough for your heart to pick up pace as if it was begging you to set it free through your ribcage.

«Come here,» the pirate repeated, his voice a little gentler – a little softer, and you found yourself leaning against his torso. Unlike you, Minho wasn’t using a blanket to keep himself warm and therefore he could move his arms freely; of course he used them to loosely cage you in his hold.

Although you had to admit that the position you were in definitely looked kind of weird, it was extremely comfortable; Minho’s steady breathing was slowly calming your nerves as well, and you found yourself relaxing in his hold.

«Do you want some of my blankets?» you mumbled quietly, embarrassed about the fact that you didn’t ask sooner.

«I’m good.» Minho answered immediately, gently repeating that you should try to sleep.

Despite the fact that you were comfortable, despite Minho’s presence, despite the fact that you were slowly warming up, sleep was definitely your last priority. The pirate’s nose brushed against your forehead as he was trying to adjust his position to get more comfortable, and you quickly noticed that his skin was cold as well.

«Minho,» you called out again few minutes later; the pirate hummed, and you took it at a silent question to go on, «can we please share blankets?»

«Why?» he chuckled at your distress, and you could feel his soft breath in the side of your face. «You look cold,» you tried to justify yourself, «I have a lot of blankets, we can share.» you insisted.

Minho eventually gave up, and the both of you ended up shifting from your original position; however, this meant that your arms were touching as you were now laying next to each other, and there wasn’t a blanket you could use as an invisible barrier anymore.

Under the sea of sheets, Minho’s right arm snaked under your neck, pulling you to his body; as if you were magnets, you followed his lead, laying on your side and hugging his waist, resting your head in the crook of his neck, nuzzling as close as you could. Your nose was right against Minho’s neck, and you could almost feel the goosebumps he had whenever you breathed; you ended up blaming it on the cold temperature, since you were fond of keeping your mental sanity and you were madly trying to distract yourself from thinking about other ways to share body heat.

«You know, once we got stuck in the middle of an iced part of the sea,» Minho mumbled, talking about one of his adventures as if he was trying to prevent his mind from wandering towards the same sinful thoughts you were trying to avoid.

«What?» you hummed, too tired to try remembering if you read about it in the novel, «How did you get out of there?»

«Ropes,» was his immediate answer, «we ended up pulling on the rope until we could break the ice.»

«Like that “Vikings” episode,» you giggled to yourself in a tired voice; Minho had immediately questioned you about it, and you tried to explain to him what movies and TV shows were.

However, you were obliviously fighting falling asleep, reason why Minho ended up gently shutting you up with a gentle and earnest: «you’ll tell me about it tomorrow.»

As always you fell asleep first, but this time, when Minho moved you so that you could lay on your bed to sleep more comfortably and he could walk back to his room, you weakly grabbed his hand in your sleep.

«I get lonely if you’re not here.» you mumbled, still lost in dreamland. Minho was thankful to the lights being completely off and to you being asleep because the expression on his face was priceless: he was incredibly flustered, his blush was flaring up both his cheeks and the tip of his ears. That night, Minho slept next to you for the first time, and as you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you found him laying next to you under the sea of blankets; you instinctively snuggled closer to his chest, only to realize that you were partially laying on top of his firm chest. Not wanting to disturb his sleep, you tried to scoot away as quietly as you could in order not to wake him up, just to lay next to him.

However, that was your initial plan, since you soon found out that Minho was indeed a light sleeper; the arm he kept around your waist had tightened out of reflex, harshly pulling you in your original position once again.

«Where do you think you’re going, princess?» he murmured, his voice still groggy due to sleep.

«I, uhm…» you hesitated, your brain was clearly too sleepy to come up with a clever and witty answer. Minho didn’t wait for you to find your words, though; keeping you close to his body, he gently rolled you on your back, partially draping his body over yours instead.

«Go back to sleep,» he murmured again, easing his left leg between yours, and nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

“He’s a cuddler?” you wondered in pleased surprise; your hand eventually ended up in his hair, running your fingertips trough it and trying to lull him back to sleep.

However, Minho found it impossible to fall asleep again, judging your wild heartbeat hammering right under his ear; he glanced up towards the small window in your room, and quickly deduced that it was still the middle of the night, meaning that you didn’t get to sleep much in the first place.

If at first he had tried to lull you back to sleep while caressing your hip in a loving manner, he quickly realized that his touch had quite the opposite effect on you; he also had to admit that the sudden proximity of your body and the position that you were in was making him significantly riled up as well.

«Can’t sleep?» he asked, shortly rubbing his eyes with his fingertips in order to get rid of sleep as fast as he could, deciding that you didn’t have to stay awake on your own; you settled for humming affirmatively at his question, and Minho effortlessly pushed himself up, partially balancing his weight on his right elbow so that he his face was hovering above yours. Due to the change of position, his thigh was firmly pressed between your legs, and you forced yourself to swallow a whimper as his knee slightly dipped in the mattress.

Despite the poor lightning, you could feel his gaze on your features, as if he was trying to see through the darkness; you were clearly trying to do the same, and another silence fell as the Golden Fleece was constantly rocking your body while gently following the rhythm of the night sea.

«Do you think the flowers growing in your head are contagious?» Minho blurted out all of a sudden, his left hand mindlessly running up your side in a gentle yet firm touch, «I think I might go back on my thoughts of you not being a siren.» he quietly added; you didn’t answer – your senses about to go overdrive due to all the different kind of constant stimulation added to the comfortable warmth of his body, settling for humming yet again, silently asking him to go on.

Minho ran his left hand from your side to your neck, and eventually started to run his fingertip over your features, delicately brushing over your skin ever so lightly, touching you as if you were some precious treasure he unexpectedly found in the middle of the sea.

«You have completely driven me mad,» Minho confessed with an earnest voice, his fingertips brushing over your cheekbones, «with affection,» he added, his touch brushing over the bow on your upper lip, «with desire,» you found yourself weakly gripping at the front his shirt as soon as you heard his hoarse voice overflowing with the feelings he was talking about, «to the point where I know I should want you to be happy, but I keep wanting – I keep craving, that you could find your happiness with me.» Minho’s confession made your head spin; you wanted to answer that his feelings were completely reciprocated, answer that you didn’t found happiness with Minho – you found a home. However, your voice died in your throat as soon as the pirate had leaned in, his lips hovering barely above yours, yet almost constantly brushing together due to the ship’s movement.

«I am completely enamoured of everything about you,» Minho had whispered then, making you suddenly tighten the loose grip you had on his shirt to the point that the necklace he had been wearing since they day you saved the crew from the sirens’ had fallen out of the collar, now dangling between your bodies, «your body, your personality, the crazy flower field in your head, princess, I – I don’t want you to go back.»

Your heart was overflowing with a different mix of feelings, but the happiness of your feelings being reciprocated seemed to prevail. «I stopped wanting to go back since me and Leana returned from O'draxxia.» was what you admitted out loud, your voice trembling due to all the sudden emotions that were almost setting your soul on fire.

Only then you leaned in – trusting your body more then your words, capturing the pirate’s lips in a timid first kiss, filling it with all the love you felt for the pirate. Minho returned your gesture immediately, kissing your lips slowly, tentatively, over and over again as he was trying to savour you, shortly kissing your lips just to drift his attention elsewhere and kissing your cheek, your nose, your chin, as if he was trying not to lose himself to the lust he was feeling. The kiss had eventually started to heathen when Minho leaned in to kiss you, just for you to run your fingertips through his hair and harshly closing your hand in a fist against his nape, tugging him closer to you and preventing him from running away, so that you could delicately running your tongue on his lower lip.

Minho’s kisses started to get less cherishing and more passionate, occasionally leaving a path of open mouthed kisses on your neck, his knee digging further in the mattress anytime he moved and creating the kind of friction you were honestly about to beg for. It was as if you were a small ship adrift caught up in a sudden storm; Minho kept worshipping your body and all you could do in that moment was to take, take and take, hoping that as soon as the storm had passed you wouldn’t have completely fallen into madness, wishing to stumble right in another one because you felt addicted to the rush of adrenaline. As your kisses grew hotter, so did your bodies and eventually, the sea of blankets you were covered with was progressively being scattered either on the floor or in a corner of your bed.

On deck, the sight of the sun about to rise in the distance was in stark contrast to the light drizzle that had started to fall, the sound of rain echoing on the wooden tiles and absorbing the faint noises of the pirates waking up for the morning shift; in your bedroom, Minho’s hair felt like gentle rain falling on your body everytime the pirate leaned down to kiss your skin as he was undressing you.

“Well, fuck,” you thought, admitting to yourself that Minho was definitely both a good and experienced lover. He had patiently took his sweet time to pay extreme attention to your body, studying how reacted to his different touches as if he was making up for all the lost time, occasionally showering you with praises as his head was nestled between your legs and he was lapping at your clit, making you quicklytumble on your first orgasm of the night. It had definitely been a long time since you had sex with someone, your boring routine had never actually given you an opportunity to meet new people – let alone think about a relationship, but you weren’t expecting Minho to act so smug about it.

As your bodies were finally connected,Minho had sneaked one arm under your waist while steadily moving his hips against yours, harshly pulling it upwards so that your back would be a little more arched and your naked bodies would be pressed together even more; once again, you were greedily taking everything Minho was giving you, helplessly running your fingernails on his back deep enough you would leave marks, beaming yourself in the feeling of his low moans and the goosebumps erupting on his skin out of reflex.

«Going dumb on me for this little action, princess?» Minho’s hoarse voice was filled with desire as he spoke, his hips gradually slowing until his movements came to a stop; you immediately whimpered loudly at the lack of friction, trying to move your hips in circles because you were desperately to create it on your own. You wanted to feel more, you wanted for that moment to never end. As you kept your movements slow and rhythmic – you had to admit that Minho still hoisting you up was doing half of the job, you grabbed the necklace sill dangling between the two of you with your left hand, harshly tugging it and therefore bringing Minho’s face closer to yours.

«Do you ever shut up?» you answered instead, the nails of your right hand – still gripping at his shoulders, were most definitely digging half moon shapes in his skin, and you felt proud of yourself for not ending up whimpering with need somewhere along your sentence; even if it was probably dawn already, you couldn’t see him clearly yet, but it didn’t take a wild guess for you to know that he was smirking at your words.

«I don’t know, do I?» he challenged, shortly capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, starting once again to move his hips to meet your movements.

«Ruin me, Minho,» you urged, keeping him close to you with your grip on the necklace, «I want to be yours,» you confessed then, your body slowly about to lose itself to the momentary euphoria of another orgasm, «I don’t want you to be anybody else’s but mine.»

«Do you think we can sleep in?» you mumbled, tired; you could both clearly hear that it was raining, and you desperately wished for your alone time with Minho to continue for few more hours; you were now laying in bed, lovingly cuddling in your post orgasm bliss.

«I’m on duty this morning,» Minho replied, caressing the bare skin of your shoulder, and admitting that he would have loved to spend the day like this; eventually, you and Minho woke up, washed up and got ready for your day.

Of course, during the day, the pirate had used any excuse to drive you in a corner of the Golden Fleece and kiss you as desperately as if it was your last time. Of course, you couldn’t escape a certain pair of eyes.

“Oh no, here they come, Sauron and Sauron jr.” you thought, chuckling to yourself as you saw Felix and Leana approaching with big and quick steps; you found it hard to contain your laughter, since they were lightly pushing and pulling each other as if both of them wanted to know first.

«Congratulations on the sex!» Leana had mischievously commented, and you immediately reached out to press your hand against her lips in a vain attempt to let everyone on the Golden Fleece know about your early morning activities, «you have hickeys everywhere.» you heard her mutter against your skin.

«Are you finally official?» Felix questioned, secretly happy to have you as a sister in law; you didn’t immediately reply, since you and Minho didn’t clarify it out loud.

However, as your gaze shortly wondered to your lover, who was continuously walking around on deck while changing his destination every now and then as he was trying to avoid Hyunjin’s Jisung’s and Changbin’s teasing – they were literally tailing him and occasionally trying to widen the collar of his shirt just to see «where do these scratches on your nape come from? Is there a stray cat on board or something?», you found yourself smiling gently at the sight.

«We are.» you confirmed, a smile on your face as you finally felt happy.

A month later, you and Minho were definitely official: he moved to your bedroom, and you managed to fit in your small bed nonetheless. You both spent your days doing your chores, and your nights enjoying your affection, either making love until you were exhausted or talking until you were on the verge to fall asleep.

Minho wanted to know everything about you, every single detail that you didn’t consider important, and you felt cherished, since you knew that no one had ever loved you like that. Actually, you wanted to know everything about Minho as well; although the author of the novel had paid enough attention to his character, there were a lot of things you didn’t know, and you found yourself listening to his stories, silently wishing that you were already in his company so that you could have experienced those memories together.

«You’re a pirate,» he had chuckled at your comment, «I’m sure you’ll get to experience your dose of adventures, too.» Minho was completely smitten with your presence, and so were you; slowly, you found yourself occasionally forgetting about your life before you had shifted into this dimension, admitting to both your lover and your friends that you didn’t want to find a way to go home any longer. Needless to say, they were all more than happy with your choice.

However, a month later, your destiny gave you an unexpected choice.

The Golden Fleece was now docked to a port for your usual restock of supplies, and as everyone was busy with their commissions, you and Minho decided to wander through the nearby marketplace, since everything about that world was new to you. You ended up buying a matching necklace, since the both of you were too scared to lose a ring in the middle of the sea, and you kept playing with it as you were strolling around, your fingers loosely intertwined together.

The marketplace was filled with the most random people, but what captured your attention was a small stall that seemed to be packed with books.

«I’ll check this out for a second.» you told Minho, who had simply nodded at you, answering that he was going to check out the stall right next to yours. As soon as you quickly approached it, a certain book seemed to catch your eye in a magnetic hold: it was relegated in leather, some golden details that recalled the title written in beautiful handwriting. Honestly, a small familiar detail was the one that caught your eye, making your heart rapidly hammer in your chest: a small golden stone embedded right under the title was quietly reflecting the sunlight.

Immediately, you found yourself fanning the pages with anxious fingers, and you couldn’t believe what you were reading; the book was talking about your life, the life you were leading before finding yourself in the novel you had been reading. What the hell was happening?

Quickly, you jumped to the end of the book to read the summary, and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe: it was a short novel about a girl – who coincidentally had both your name and worked exactly where you used to work, who spent her quiet life in a small home town, occasionally meeting her friends.

Of course, it sounded rather plain and boring, but the description was perfectly matching your life; anxiety was slowly clouding your emotions as you opened the book at a random page.

“«Cleo, don’t sit on the window sill!» the girl had yelled from the kitchen, worried about her cat’s habits.”

You closed the book immediately, recalling the scene a bit too vividly; your cat had the habit to sit on the window sill anytime it was open, therefore worrying you to death, and every time you ended up picking her up in order to give her some extra cuddles to refrain her from climbing there yet again.

A whirlwind of thoughts were occupying your head; if this book was talking about your life, that meant you could go back to your ordinary life and keep living your days as you used to.

Going back meant not having occasional nausea due to living on a ship and not risking to die of hypothermia; moreover, all of a sudden, you were definitely craving to eat some junk food.

«Are you interested in purchasing the book, young girl?» an old lady called your attention. She was probably the owner of the stall, and you squinted your eyes at the familiarity of her face; to be honest, you were almost certain that she was the same person that owned the book-store in your original time, but that couldn’t be the case, right?

«Hey princess, if you don’t hurry up, we’ll leave you here!» Minho’s voice interrupted your thoughts, and your head seemed to clear just like the wind clears the sky after a heavy storm; you turned your head to look at your lover, who was looking at you with his hands on his hips, a smug yet enamoured look on his face. The Golden Fleece was about to sail, you reminded yourself, you had simply stopped in town to get some supplies, water and enough provisions for the next trip.

Out of instinct, you hugged the book to your chest, as your eyes remained fixed on Minho; you didn’t know anything about how you managed to end up in this messed up reality, and at this point, you didn’t care.

The chance to go back was right in your hands, but as you watched Minho scoff a laughter at your indecision, every trace of doubt vanished from your heart; you and Minho definitely had a rough start, but you had to admit to yourself that you wouldn’t want to live in another dimension without the pirate who was looking at you as if you were the centre of the universe.

Going back meant not having Felix waking you up in the morning, or Leana bursting into your room looking for cuddles because «Chris is busy with stupid pirate stuff.». It meant not seeing both Seungmin and Jeongin incredibly proud about the latter’s progresses in writing and reading, or Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin restlessly trying to lure you into their gambling circle.

Going back also meant no more Minho; no more walking up in the middle of the night just to cuddle closer to him, no more having quiet sex on deck in the middle of the night, no more laughing among yourselves because of a stupid inside joke you created, not having him gently chuckling at your unconsolable face anytime he was drying your hair with a towel as you kept whining about your limited edition conditioner.

Most importantly, it meant no more Minho telling you that he loved you, his eyes full of love and sincerity.

«Thank you, but I prefer adventure books.» you honestly answered at the lady, and with a content smile you placed the book exactly where it was; you quickly walked towards Minho, who hugged your shoulders out of instinct as the two of you walked towards the port.

«Saw anything you liked out there?» he wondered curiously; you sincerely seemed interested in the book you were holding, why didn’t you buy it?

«Yeah,» you answered honestly, «you.» the pirate scoffed a flustered breath, and you circled his waist as you kept walking.

Unbeknownst to you, the lady was looking at you and Minho with a some sort of fond smile on her lips; as soon as you were at a reasonable distance, the book seemed to vanish, as if it had completely disappeared from this world. In a blink of an eye, the old lady seemed to have disappeared as well, and in her place was standing the original owner of the stall, a man who was selling every kind of jewellery shining brightly on the table in front of him.

Few meters away, a cat with a very unique appearance – black fur randomly dotted with ginger spots and light green eyes, was quietly roaming the port, satisfied with her task. She recalled being called in a different variety of names during her immortal life, “Ananke” was probably the most used among different cultures; however, she will always cherish the memories she had made with a very special human who had randomly picked her up on a rainy day, giving her a shelter, keeping her well fed and gifting her with a brand new name: “Cleo”.

Walking towards the Golden Fleece, your attention was caught by some pirates who were carrying a dozen crates on board that looked quite heavy.

«Did we have so little supplies on board?» you questioned Chris, as soon as you and Minho joined the others on the wharf.

«We had plenty!» Leana answered instead, «Me and Felix decided to fill your wardrobe with new clothes, as a welcoming gift!»

«But… I don’t have a wardrobe in my room…» you answered, wondering how could a wardrobe fit in there now that you and Minho were sharing the bedroom.

«Not yet!» Felix answered, mirroring Leana’s euphoria; you were about to answer him, when Hyunjin had asked you whether you had decided to stay with them.

«I did, Captain said it’s not a problem.» you nodded, imperceptibly pushing your body against Minho’s side as if to look for an invisible shelter; what if the gambler trio was against the idea?

However, Hyunjin had simply nodded, while Changbin and Jisung seemed to be genuinely happy about it.

«Well, that’s great!» you said, clapping your hands once, «Chris said that I could chose the first thing to do, and so I decided we’re about to raid a merchant ship!»

«Are you sure you’re okay? Did you perhaps hit your head again?» Seungmin wondered, instinctively reaching out in order to touch your forehead, as if checking if you had a fever. However, you were already walking towards the Golden Fleece with confident steps, as if you were meant to be there.

«Come on, scallywags!» you eagerly announced in a loud voice, as if you were impersonating the Captain, «Let’s go, Min Min.» you added then, your voice definitely more softer and a smile on your lips.

«Wait!» Jeongin halted everyone, his hands hovering in the air, «Did she just call him-»

«You heard the lady!» Leana interrupted Jeongin, quickly pulling the palm of her hand on the younger’s mouth. «Let’s go!»

“Ah, I really shouldn’t have wasted the Britney quote like that,” you pouted, “now I have to figure out another iconic thing to scream as we walk on the merchants’ ship.” you sighed, instinctively leaning towards Minho as soon as you felt his arm circle your shoulders.

«You seem lost in thought,» he pointed out, noticing your eyebrows furrowed.

«Does “it’s high tide, baby!” sound scary and menacious to you?» you wondered out loud, thing that made Minho burst out laughing, «Why are you laughing? It’s not like we can crash against their ship screaming “vibe check”!» you pretended to be offended, but you found yourself laughing along with your lover.

«“Vibe” what? Where did that come from now?» he asked, already knowing that this was just another one of your weird figure of speech.

«My flower field.» you proudly answered, tapping your temple twice, Minho rolled his eyes, and leaned in, shortly kissing your temple.

Everyone was busy on deck, the Golden Fleece had sailed once again; your gaze lost itself in the vast sea in front of you, and you found yourself recalling the question Leana had asked you when you were on your trip to O’draxxia.

«Do you believe in soulmates?» she had questioned you, and back then you uncertainly answered that you thought you did.

“What if me and Minho are soulmates?” you wondered, unconsciously wrapping your fingers around your matching necklace - both the one you bought at the market and the talisman made out of your precious clothes; you found yourself recalling the unpredictable change of your relationship, and you breathed a content sigh, for the first time in your life feeling completely at peace.

«Yes, we must be.» you softly mumbled to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper losing itself in the wind.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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tallulah477 · 25 days

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Below the cut contains my thoughts and feelings about certain issues that I've seen recently that I feel like need to be addressed including hate/bullying, the new Neteyam & Lo'ak rp blogs, and the general fandom as a whole.

CW:// Mentions of pedophilia, predators, racism, and homophobia

Over the past several months, and especially over these past several days, it's come to my attention that we as a fandom need to make some things abundantly clear.

I was a silent reader for a long time. I love Avatar and this fandom with my entire heart and I wanted nothing more than to be an active part of it and member of the community, but the thing that stopped me for a long time was seeing how hateful people can be and I wasn't sure if I could handle it. Obviously, I decided that my happiness and sharing my love for Avatar and the characters with other people who love it as much as I do is more important than any nasty messages I might get and I couldn't be happier with my decision. I think I can safely say that most of us here in the fandom can say the same (although I'm sure the feeling of happiness comes with endless ebbs and flows for all of us).

That being said, the amount of sheer bullshit that I've been seeing on here is ridiculous.

The amount of hate messages that I've had to witness my mutuals receive is unacceptable. The amount of hounding as to why someone unfollowed this person, why aren't they interacting with this person anymore, why would someone write something like this, why won't you write this, is crazy to see. I've seen racist comments, I've seen homophobic comments, and I've seen people being called a pedophile wayyyy to often now.

This is Tumblr. We are responsible for our own media consumption. We cultivate our own media experience.

That means authors write what they enjoy regardless of content as long as they are responsible and tag the work correctly. You as the reader are responsible for heeding those warnings.

This means that if two people who used to interact or follow each other all of a sudden don't or someone gets blocked, it is no one's business as to why it happened. They don't owe you an explanation and there's no need to publicize drama. Do not go into their inboxes asking for details because all that does is feed the flames.

This is supposed to be people's happy place. Our safe space. And instead it seems like there's something new happening every single day.

At this point, we've all seen the rp blogs that have popped up. I'm not generally someone who enjoys rp so I didn't interact, but I saw a ton of my mutuals and others having a great time with them. Despite me not liking rp, it was exciting to see at first. A live persona of one of my most beloved characters interacting with fics that I love? Yes, it's definitely exciting to see!

But then it got not so exciting to see. The responses seemed solely sexual and out of character for Neteyam, a lot of them were really dark and borderline violent. I like dark fics, and I love dark Neteyam. But there are warnings to every dark fic and you go into them knowing what to expect. For a blog that's rp-ing a character that's not canonically like that, it was concerning to see.

We've had issues in this fandom in the past with predators. And despite us all being adults here (at least we should all be), you can never be too careful when it comes to the internet. I am NOT saying that the people running these blogs are predators, but certain things I've seen have raised some flags to me. Rp can be really dangerous when people don't know who's behind the character, especially if things are sexual. Since then, both blogs have created 'About Me' sections which I think is good. So that's something I appreciate.

However, we've also had the opposite problem in which minors interact with us and our content. It's a huge problem that we are constantly trying to battle because while seeing/reading sexual content can be harmful for those who are underage, it's can also get us into a lot of trouble for interacting with minors even if we don't know they're underage. When the accusation that the rp accounts were minors came out, they were sent asks to confirm. One responded respectfully and one, in my opinion, responded not so respectfully. If you are ever asked if you are a minor, don't get pissed about it. It's an important question and you should understand and respect its importance. Just clarify.

I'm saying all this not because I don't think people should interact with these blogs if you want to. It's 100% up to you and I know a lot of people were having fun with it. You're all adults, do what you think is best. And I do think it would be really nice to have more guys in the community, whether they rp or not. My issue with them is more about safety than anything else.

Now back to the hate comments. For any issues I might have had with the Neteyam blog (again, no hate, just my own thoughts), I only ever saw the Lo'ak blog being respectful. Yet, I still saw someone on their actual blog, not under anon, telling him "can't you just leave?". Under no circumstances is it okay to say this to another person. Any one who is an active member of this community who posts fics or the like KNOWS what its like to receive hateful comments like this and you think its okay to say something like this to someone else? No way. I'm sure you know what it feels like to get comments like that and you decided to be nasty to another person anyway. You should know better. Anyone who can say something mean to or about another person should be ashamed of themselves.

For as much as I love this fandom, this is insane that I actually have to say this.

Be kind. Be respectful.

And if you can't?

It's called the block button, people. Use it.

#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒔 ��

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simplepotatofarmer · 10 months

Text

Blog Update:

Hi, it's me, Loyal.

I just want to say first and foremost, I really do love (parts of) the fandom and I'm not going anywhere.

I will, however, not be around as much. One, I'm about to enter an all day intensive treatment plan so I'll literally just be on in the evening. Two, as much as I'm going to keep writing and creating, I have no intention of interacting publicly with fandom as much as I have.

I can't. It's actually fucking insane that it's gotten to this point. I made tribute post and because I used lyrics from Dream's song, I got harassed. The people doing this, acting like this, thinking this way are insane.

So in case it's not clear: Based on my personal lived experience and some information that's come to light, I still enjoy Dream's content. You can approach me personally, off anon, if you want to know my reasoning. If you dislike me for this, that's fine. But I'm done trying to walk this fine line just so I don't get people threatening me, my kids, and my pets. Just so people stop sending me the city I live in, so they stop digging up twelve year old tweets, so they stop calling me slurs and suicide baiting me.

That's absolutely insane. It's horrible. It's disgusting and I was honestly just sitting here, taking it, because I'm terrified of upsetting people and losing friends if I say 'yeah, I'm excited for a new manhunt and I also this song helped me and my kids process my grief'. And the worst part is, it's not an unfounded fear. People have done the most vile shit to me. People I thought were friends jumped on me instead of those harassing me.

I just want to post about Techno and c!Rivals duo and not worry about whether or not this post is going to get me hate. I don't want to worry about how random discord servers are talking about me.

Because that's fucking batshit. Not the worrying, but what these people are doing and I'm tired of letting this effect me. I have enough going on in my personal life. My partner of 15 years almost died. We almost lost our house. I should be able to come online and post about the silly minecraft guys I like and their RP and lore without censoring myself out of fear of literally being doxxed and cyber stalked. I should be able to talk about the racism that effects me without being afraid people will make it about cc drama or calling me slurs or erasing my identity as an Ojibwe person.

The people doing this are the problem. It hurts that so many people are part of this, it really does. But I can't keep letting it get to me. I've always done my best to be kind. I haven't been perfect, especially not lately, because all this hate and stress has gotten to me. I've lashed out. I shouldn't have.

And I shouldn't have had to deal with all that shit in the first place. I hope no one else does. It's terrifying and draining and I'm done.

So I intend to post the things I enjoy, I intend to reblog my friends' art, write the Emerald duo and Rivals duo fics I want to. I want to post about the Syndicate and the new manhunt when it comes out. That's what I'm going to do.

Asks are staying off for the moment because people are too happy to make burner blogs but I'll probably turn them back on at some point as I love answering lore and headcanon questions and, again, it's fucked up I can't enjoy an aspect of the site and fandom because people can't just leave me alone.

To those people: Get help. You're harassing someone because you think they deserve it and that's the most fucked up thing.

To everyone else: So so many of you have been amazing. You've been supportive, you've been kind. That kindness and support speaks volumes and I love you all. I genuinely love you. Dreblr, you've been here for me for over a year at this point and I cannot thank you enough. You are the best part of fandom as far as I'm concerned. And to Dtblr, y'all have come to support me countless times and that means the world to me, it really does. As for all my fellow Rivals duo fans, you people are worth your weight in gold for the joy you bring. A special shout-out to @vpofcookies because you've been here since the beginning, practically, and I love you. There's more but you know who you are.

Anyway, I've been carrying this for awhile and I'm tired. I'm no longer going to give any amount of thought to the people determined to drag me down and harass me constantly.

My best advice is stop focusing on the things and people you hate and instead focus on what you love. That's what I plan to do, from here on out.

#I had someone help me write this because it's been a lot but hopefully this makes sense and explains things.#I'm leaving tomorrow. I just had a break because of everything that happened lately. With the car and then missing Techno so much.#Then the sudden onslaught it was like. Wow. This isn't good! I need change.#So I'm changing things. And I do know this is going to get me hate of course.#But I mean. I'm done with caring about that. I have people and things that I love and that's what I care about.#loyal talks about stuff and things #I'm not tagging this as discourse because like this is my literal fandom experience.

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cookie-kisses · 11 months

Note

Hi! Welcome to the cookie writer community here there are a lot of nice anons and many amazing writers! I noticed your post about taking requests when I was looking at most recent cookie run × reader stuff and saw you and thought I'd send in a request and welcome you! Also it's cool you're a yandere writer too! Not many writers are a fan of writing yandere so it's nice to see another yandere writer to add some spice to the mix! Oh and you do male reader writings? Neat! I like gender neutral since it involves everyone but...despite being a female...seeing so many x females well...it's like only having one meal over and over again. You just end up wanting something different and new, yaknow?

Anyway sorry for that ramble! Just already excited to see some of your more romantic writing!

Now...may I request an affogato x a sweet, cuddly reader hcs? If you wanna do a one shot instead, that would be fine! Like maybe the reader found affogato after he was forced to flee from the dark cacao kingdom and decided to take him under their wing and nurse them back to health and let him live with them? Maybe the reader also treats them sweetly and never falls for their manipulation because they are so sweet, it just flies over their head and they just think affogato is being nice and always offers him hugs and welcomes any hugs! Bonus if the reader secretly knew the whole time about who he was and what he had done...buuut had heard his story about his sad life (the whole asking to sit in a chair with no comfort thing) and wanted to give them a happy life to turn them good...aaaaand possibly hope affogato chooses to stay even after he recovered because the reader loves their cuddles and actually has a crush on them...and affogato finds out by either overhearing a convo where the reader's friend calls them insane because of what they were doing or affogato finds their diary!

(Scroll down to banner cut to skip authors notes if desired.)

Oh my sweet, sweet anon. My sweet, precious anon, thank you. You don’t understand how infatuated I am with Affogato Cookie. He’s one of the reasons I started writing!

My account is actually about a year old, but due to massive writing block I never posted any content. I also agree on the same repetitive content! It’s quite disappointing reading a piece of content that’s really well written, but Y/N is automatically female. (Especially without any prior notice.) I use my blog to give an opening to male readers but otherwise make it gender neutral to be inclusive.

And yes! I write yandere content (within reason.) The stories tend to be more bitter, but the bitterness and conflict is what makes it interesting. I wish for my content to provide something new!

When I saw Affogato Cookie’s name pop up I nearly jumped out of my seat, I will surely have fun with this.

Warmth&Love

Cw: Minor swearing

The frigid snow of the Dark Cacao Kingdom beats down on the land, temperatures reaching below zero. A blizzard hurdles from north, The Black Citadels doors locked up tight, villagers barricading their house windows, cake hounds and cream wolves huddling against each other. Even the beasts of the lands couldn’t stand the cold.

The freezing land of the kingdom was no place for a cookie to stray out alone, yet Affogato cookie found himself trudging away from it. Exiled for treason with no one to turn to, he wandered the frigid hills. Affogato cookie cursed himself. He was close to having everything! He almost had it all, but now he had nothing. Again

Affogato cookie didn’t know where he was going or where he was. His sight was blinded by pure white fluttering around him, the frigid cold clung onto his body. Snow hugging onto his eyelashes and finger tips. Every step took more energy than the last, the cold finally taking its toll.

Unable to support himself any long his knees collapsed with his body. His vision blurred, head filled with cotton. He failed to see the approaching figure before passing out from the cold.

Laid in the corner, Affogato cookie slept unconscious atop of a wooden bed. His body was blanketed with a fluffy, wool cover. It was a humble cabin, limited space, but it was a home nonetheless.

Clinking could be heard from the kitchen. There you were, working in the kitchen before fixing a bowl of soup, your eyes fixating on Affogato cookie.

You found Affogato cookie passed out in the cold while wandering for lumber. It wasn’t the smartest move because of the blizzard, but your idiocy saved a man. You know who he was, your friend warned you about him before you moved away from your home village. They always suspected something wasn’t right, but you couldn’t have cared less. You were head over heals for that man. You knew everything. This was your chance to treat him ever so sweetly and maybe even do something more.

Your mind retraced the events once more, thinking of different scenarios before being interrupted by the squeak of the bed frame. Affogato Cookie sat against the bed, dazed, before gathering his composure and haughty demeanor in an instant when he spotted you. Even when exiled, he couldn’t let his sweet facade slip again, no?

Placing the bowl of broth onto a serving tray you placed the board along his lap with a spoon alongside it.

Affogato Cookie slowly felt a smile curl his lips. What a lovely opportunity this was. Oh, how he thanked you for saving him. Sweet praises slipped from his mouth, putting on a sultry voice.

“What do we have here? Oh how strong and brave you must’ve been to save me from such a strong storm! Aren’t you something?”

He laced his words with the sweetest sugar, complimenting your strength, kindness, generosity, anything he could think of to get you to fall under.

But to his dismay, you stood unfazed by his sweet remarks, instead thanking him before questioning about his condition.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Do you need anymore blankets?”

“Are you comfortable?”

“Is there anything else you need?”

His facade wavered slightly, partly irritated his smooth talk didn’t work, partly because he didn’t expect such warmth. He surely didn’t expect you to offer him a place either.

“Stay as long as needed but please, spend the night at least.”

Knowing he had no other option, he accepted. Where else would he go?

Despite his exile, it didn’t stop Affogato cookie’s desire for control and admiration. Often he’d coil around you as he crooned compliments. He spoke with constant sugar coated praises and faux sincerity, grazing your body with gentle touches. He’d cradle your cheek, leaning in, whispering sweet things. All attempts to make you melt, waver, and bend.

“Aren’t you a lovely, thing? Heh heh.”

“What have we here? Oh aren’t you adorable…”

“Hm hm hm- why, aren’t you a dear.”

“Can I ask you a favor? You’re quite the strong one..”

But despite all his efforts, your demeanor never faltered. You’d smile at him with the genuine, sweet smile he always seen you wear. You’d return the affection leaning into his touch, but never quite bending the way he wanted you to. Your demeanor soon started affecting him. (Oh, the sweet irony.) He couldn’t help but find his face flaring up whenever you smiled with such kindness at him.

The more time Affogato Cookie spent around you the more conflicted he was. Constantly you pampered him, always making sure he was comfortable and happy. You were quite physical with your affection too, reciprocating his touches. When Affogato brushed up against you it was empty sweetness, nothing more than a deceitful attempt, but your touches were filled with mesmerizing warmth. He could feel his composure melt bit by bit and he had no idea what to do about it.

Slowly he started to consider the idea of just settling in. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to pull strings for admiration after all. You were so sweet, he might’ve even caught something for you.

His arrogant facade finally slipped off one day when you cuddle alongside him by the fireplace. He melted into your side and basked in the warmth. Yes. This was a life worth living. He finally had someone by his side, a loving companion, maybe something even more. His eyes fluttered closed in content, leaning against you warm body.

You sat still as he slept on your shoulder, a small smile crept on your face. Sighing contently you cradled him in your arms once more and carried him up to your bedroom, tucking him in. You smile gently and pecked his forehead. You couldn’t help but stare at him with adoration, he’s so beautiful to you, and now you finally had him with you. You wish you could get closer.

However, a knock from downstairs pulled you out from your daydream. Gently you treaded down the stairs, reluctant to make any noise.

Opening the door you were met with a familiar face. A former friend from your home village stared at you, a concerned expression on their face.

Your heart sank to your stomach. If you wanted to see their face again you wouldn’t have moved away from the village.

“Hey-”

You interupted.

“What do you want?”

“Erm- have you possibly seen, you know- euhm Affogato Cookie around recently?”

The cookie treaded cautiously with their words, their voice not above a whisper. Your eyes narrowed, you knew what this was about, but you feigned ignorance.

“Why?”

You craned your head sideways.

“Well- I just wouldn’t want you to get hurt or anything. You know what he’s done…”

Your face contorted into one of irritation.

“Don’t start with this again.”

In an instant their tone rose, their anger fluctuating as they spoke.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not like you love the man who tried to overthrow the kingdom and start a cult!? I’m so sorry that you’re fucking insane!”

Choking out an irritable laugh the two of you bickered at the front door, spitting out meaningless insults.

Meanwhile, upstairs the string of voices woke up Affogato Cookie, miffed he was woken from his sleep. But Affogato being a nosy man, his interest piqued from the commotion downstairs. Walking half way down he peeked his head over the wall, listening in. Your argument nearly became a screaming match.

“Are you drunk?? You love a fucking psychopath! He’s a power hungry mooch!”

“Oh, I wonder who caused him to be this way? You and the village did! This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t abuse a goddamn child. All he needed was love! And that’s what I’m giving him now. How about you fuck off and let me live my life?!”

“You’re dense! You can’t jus-“

The door slammed in their face.

Your hand rested on the doorknob, barely able process anything. Your other hand shook violently. You turned your head looking behind you, your eyes met Affogato’s. Your face as pale as the snow. Neither of you blinked as you stared at each other, not a word slipping out.

Affogato cookie slowly crept down the stares, standing just a few inches from you.

This was not how you planned things to be! They weren’t supposed to know yet- what if he didn’t even feel the same? You should’ve just closed the door. Thoughts of rejection ran through your head, failing to see a smile spread across his lips and his advances. Finally, you were snapped out of your head when a pair of lips pressed against yours.

“How amusing. I am blessed to be yours.”

Your face flushed as you returned the kiss, a shaky breath of relief leaving your body. You couldn’t be happier, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too darling.”

💋

~Cookie-Kisses

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk #crk affogato #affogato cookie #crk x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie kisses

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jakekiszska · 1 year

Text

wrapped up

josh kiszka x female reader

a/n: i posted this last year for christmas and after some digging i got it back… MERRY CHRISTMAS!! 💗

warnings: explicit sexual content. 18+ only or you will be blocked.

tags: pls let me know if you’d like to be added or removed. @alwayzthere @strangersingold @garbagevanfleet @harmonyhous @obetrolncocktails @godlygreta @gardenvanfleet @singingmangoes @tripthelight-fanfic @theweightofstardust @teddiie @gretavanfleas @brokenbellz @jordierama @onedirection5sosmademebroke-blog

christmas time was your favorite time of year. you loved all the festivities, the baking, being able to spend time with your loved ones. this year was the first christmas you would be spending with josh’s family, and you were so excited to travel to frankenmuth with him and his brothers.

you were greeted with such a warm welcome from his family, a feeling you’d anticipated— but once it happened you were over the moon. they were so loving and accepting to you. throughout the week you were able to meet extended family and old friends, and you were elated.

when christmas eve came, you all gathered up in the living room so you could hand out your gifts to each other. you practically forced josh to wear matching pajamas with you, which his mother found adorable. his parents got everyone a little something, which you thought was sweet, and all the siblings got each other something as well.

when it finally came time for you to exchange gifts with josh, you handed his present over excitedly. you’d gotten him a new vinyl, the soundtrack to stanley kubrick’s eyes wide shut, and he freaked out with joy the minute he opened it. “thank you,” he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek, “i love it so much.”

he reached out to grab a small bag from under the tree for you, and handed it to you happily. the first thing you noticed inside was a small jewelry box, so you took it out and opened it first. inside the box was a silver necklace with a small sun pendant. it had rhinestones around the outside, decorating the sun-rays.

you smiled happily when you noticed jake had gotten his girlfriend a matching one, but her necklace was gold and the pendant was the moon. you hugged josh softly and thanked him, the gift was super special to you. you let him clasp it around your neck and then you cuddled into his side to watch a movie and drink cocoa with his family.

one by one everyone left to go to bed, you and josh being the last two left awake. through the evening, neither of you had been able to break physical contact with the other, you’d always had skin touching somewhere. you would be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little bothered.

you finished the movie together and then you let him lead you down the hallway to his old bedroom, and he opened the door and guided you in. it was clean, you assumed karen had kept it that way, and most of his old stuff was in boxes. you noticed a few posters still taped along the walls and you giggled.

he closed the door and walked over to the bed, quickly removing his pajamas. “what was the point of matching pajamas if you’re not sleeping in them?” you question.

he used his right hand to tousle his hair and you admired the way the muscles in his arm flexed as he lifted it. “too hot to wear clothes to bed, you know that.”

“yes josh, you’re like a furnace… but i thought it would be cute.” you told him, poking out your lip in a fake pout.

he walked over and flipped off the light before crawling into the bed and opening the covers for you. you slid in next to him and chuckled as he pulled your back flush to his front. “what we’re about to do in this bed is going to be very far from cute” he whispered, his voice an octave lower than before.

a shiver ran through you as you felt his fingers slip under the hem of your blouse and skirt up your side. “what exactly are we doing, joshua?” you asked, laughing as he tickled you. instead of answering with words, he moved so he could straddle your legs and then he hiked up your shirt so he could press kisses into your skin. “josh!” you whisper yell at him, “your parents are right across the hall!”

he slid his fingers beneath the band of your sleep shorts before looking up to make eye contact with you. “well, i guess you’ll have to be quiet then” he said, tearing your shorts down your legs. you squealed at his action and kicked him lightly. he grabbed your ankles and pressed soft kisses down your leg before biting down on your thigh.

once his face was hovering above your heat you were practically mewling for him to touch you, but he made it a point to tease you as much as he could first. he continued to kiss and nip at your thighs and the light scratch of his mustache on your skin was driving you crazy as it only added to your pleasure.

he slowly made his way toward your center and blew cold air onto your clit before leaning in and teasing it gently with his tongue. a soft whimper left your lips and he smacked your thigh before pulling off of you. “i said be quiet. if you can’t be quiet then i’ll stop.”

you shook your head yes at him, signaling that you’d stay silent, and so he leaned back in and began to press soft kisses to your clit as one of his nimble fingers prodded at your hole. you felt him gather up some of your wetness before he slipped his finger in, and you fisted the sheet and bit your lip in an attempt to make no noise.

you felt him chuckle against you and you wanted to slap him for being so smug, but he added a second finger and you felt your brain go fuzzy for a moment. he continued to roll his tongue around your clit and your orgasm began to approach way faster than you’d anticipated.

you thread your fingers through his hair to pull him closer to you, and he reacted by adding a third finger and then sucking on your clit harshly. your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks and as the wave of pleasure washed over you a small squeal left your lips.

josh removed himself from you and kissed his way up your body, lingering a bit over your tummy and again once he reached your neck. you felt his tongue trace across the hollow of your throat before he kissed your jaw and then your lips. he pulled away and made eye contact with you, allowing you to catch a mischievous glint in his eye.

“joshua… what are you up to?”

he smirks at you before you feel him slide his hand under the pillows and when he pulls it out, he’s holding a santa hat. “merry fuckin’ christmas” he whispers, sitting up on his knees and pulling the hat on to his head. “you are so ridiculous!” you laugh, ducking away from him as he tries to kiss you again.

“at least i didn’t put a bow on my dick.”

this time, you reach out and cup his cheeks before bringing his lips to yours. you graze his bottom lip with your teeth and you feel him groan as you slip your tongue into his mouth. you can see him shimmy his boxers down his legs and he breaks your kiss so he can slip them off his ankles. he repositions himself between your legs and you watch him stroke himself a few times, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

“you want it?” he teases, and you laugh. “please?” you ask, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. he runs his length through your folds before slipping himself inside of you, and a low growl escapes his throat. you whine instinctively as he slowly thrusts in and out of you, and you can see a frustrated look cross his eyes. as he begins to move faster, the rickety bed he slept in his entire childhood begins to creak, and you laugh as the headboard smacks against the wall. he yanks a pillow up from next to your head and shoves it between the bed and the wall, muffling the noise.

he leans closer to you and kisses the shell of your ear. you feel him move a hand onto your tummy just above your pelvis and then he asks you, “do you feel me there, mama?”

a low moan escapes your throat at his words and he nips at your earlobe quickly before pulling away and making eye contact with you. he stared at you with an angered look in his eye and you knew he was getting mad at you for making too much noise.

“i said to be quiet” josh spat, rolling his hips into you harder. you used your hand to stifle another moan, but he was still displeased with all the sounds you were making.

“you’re such a bad girl, y/n. you need to learn how to listen” he told you, his tone taunting. “open your mouth” he commanded, so you let your lips fall open. before you could protest he had his pointer and middle fingers shoved inside.

you hollowed your cheeks and sucked on them gently before rolling your tongue around them as much as you could. he braced his other hand against your waist and started to fuck you even steadier than before. after a minute you couldn’t stand his fingers being in there anymore, so you pulled his hand from your mouth and pulled him down for a kiss. your lips met hungrily and after a few seconds you pulled away, craning your head to your left and sinking your teeth into his bicep.

a guttural sound escaped his lips and you giggled as he whipped the hat off his head and tossed it to the other side of the room. he continued pounding into you with a ruthless pace and you can feel your second orgasm building up quickly. “josh,” you whisper, pulling his face down to meet yours, “i’m about to cum.”

he slots his lips with yours and muffles your sounds as your second orgasm hits, and his approaches seconds later. you can feel him spill inside you and then he collapses on top of you, stray curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. he rests for a moment and then pulls out, rolling off of you and over to his side of the bed.

you turn to your side and ruffle his curls, and he smiles at you. “we should probably shower after that, yeah?” he questions, and you nod your head yes. he stands from the bed and slides his boxers back on before tossing you your pajama shorts. you slip them up your legs and stand up, letting out a soft squeak as he throws you over his shoulder to exit the room. “what the hell are you doing?!” you whisper scream, and he laughs before replying “i’m santa and you’re my sack of gifts!”

you let him carry you to the bathroom and you shower, making a deal that you’d wash each other’s hair. once you were done you dried off with his favorite fluffy white towels and then you went back to his room to go to sleep, excited for all the christmas day festivities you’d get to partake in tomorrow.

you woke up early, around 7:30am, and you rolled over to see josh already awake as well. “come on, let’s get ready and go downstairs. mom always makes a huge breakfast.”

you got dressed for the day and walked with him hand-in-hand to the kitchen where you found his mom and sister cooking. the food wasn’t quite ready yet, but there was a fresh pot of coffee, so you poured yourself a mug and fixed it to your liking.

you walked into the den to find josh with his brothers, and you sat next to him on the couch. he pressed himself lovingly into your side as you sipped at your beverage, and you listened to their conversation.

your eyes widened once you heard sam say “i heard a loud thud last night, no clue what it was!” he stood from the couch and walked away, going off to find his dad.

josh rubbed your hand softly before standing himself and following sam, leaving you and jake alone. “i know what the thud was” jake said, a smirk gracing his features. you were the next to stand to leave, but before you could walk out he was by your side, speaking into your ear. “oh josh!” he mocked you, his tone high-pitched, and you smacked his arm. “shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?” you asked him, annoyance evident in your tone, but he only responded with a laugh.

“she’s still asleep, silly. someone kept her up all night.”

#greta van fleet #greta van fanfic #greta van fleet fic #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #josh kiszka #josh kiszka smut #greta van fleet fanfiction

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gothgril69 · 1 year

Text

Mise En Place— levi ackerman/reader (posted to ao3)

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact

tags : modern!au, cooking lessons, grumpy!leviackerman, goldenretriever!erwin, levi gets mad at an onion, idiots in love, smut, romance, fluff and smut, blowjobs, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, come eating, cunnilingus, more fluff after they fuck

word count : 9.7k

summary : Erwin convinces Levi to take cooking classes despite his protests, but what happens when his instructor is his age and hot, and nothing like the elderly person he was expecting? Otherwise known as the story where Levi falls in love with his cooking class instructor.

Levi stares at the irritating blond in front of him – the one that won’t stop talking about how much he needs to learn new things to restore some excitement in his life. He was fine. He didn’t need to try new things to live his life “to the fullest”. He was perfectly content with his routine: wake at six in the morning, have a cup of black tea, work, read, and go to sleep (or try). It was a good thing to have a routine; a good thing to be almost ritualistic in the way he prepared his morning tea.

“Levi, are you even listening to me?” Erwin’s voice cuts into Levi’s inner monologue – he glares at him. “Seriously, I got the cooking classes for free as a gift and you definitely need them more than I do.”

“This is the stupidest idea you’ve had to date,” Levi grumbles in response, his glare turning into a look of boredom as he concedes to Erwin’s abhorrent nagging.

“But you’ll do it?” Erwin’s voice turns hopeful, the brotherly figure looking out for his sibling, and his face looks like an excited golden retriever puppy.

Levi can’t say no. “Fine,” he grumbles and reaches for the glass of whiskey on the table, knocking it back and slamming the empty glass back down. “You’re the one that has to deal with my complaints, Eyebrows.”

“Fine by me,” the blond man grins and finishes off his own drink, signaling the bartender over to their stools as he does.

—

You stand at the front of the room, sorting through your own material for the first lesson of this round of cooking classes. It would be a relatively easy hour considering there would be no cooking involved. Conversation was on today’s lesson plan; kitchen safety, food handling, cleanliness, and preparation all being topics that needed to be discussed before you could even move on to knife skills.

Luckily, none of your students this round had any allergies and you were grateful to have free range of what to make this time. You could only hope you didn’t get too rambunctious of a bunch.

A sigh escapes you as you unlock your door to the kitchen area. It had always reminded you of the set of Masterchef when you first started working here, but not nearly as nice and definitely not nearly as high stress of an environment. You loved cooking, but would absolutely prefer the slow pace of your classes compared to the Michelin Star kitchen you worked in before. That was truly a nightmare. You’re happy everyone can have their own working stations with plenty of space, and your voice can still carry easily through the room.

You stand behind your own prep space, looking over the list of names of your new students that have already begun flowing in. Your manager probably directed them to the back from inside the storefront people usually frequented instead of your classes.

You look up and see mostly couples, the usual crowd for cooking classes as they think it’ll be a fun date, but you see some arriving solo, some significantly older than the others – it’s always a mixed bunch. They all sign the sign-in sheet at the entrance of the room, and once the flow slows down and the clock officially reaches 7:00pm, you grab the clipboard with their names. It looks like everyone has arrived except for two people: Dot Pixis and Erwin Smith. You frown. There’s always at least one that doesn’t show.

As you’re walking back to your station, a pen tapping your lips as your eyes scan the page, someone clears their throat by the door. You turn around and you’re met with a man, raven black hair blocking his eyes and forehead until he rakes a hand through it and pushes it back. He begins walking to an empty station while the rest of your new students continue chatting.

“Excuse me, sir,” you speak softly, but loud enough he knows you’re addressing him. “I’ll need you to sign in first.”

“Names Levi,” he tells you as he stands behind his station – a counter just two away from your own.

You frown at his callous nature, and at the fact that his name isn’t on your list. You walk over to him instead of addressing him from the front of the room to avoid the attention of the others. “Levi,” you address him once you’re close enough. “I don’t have your name here. Just a Dot Pixis and an Erwin Smith. So unless you’re either of those people I’m afraid you can’t be a part of my class.” You approach the topic as gently as possible, but he still looks over at you like you’ve just said the most blasphemous thing. You hold your ground.

“That idiot,” he scoffs and looks down, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m here instead of Erwin Smith. Told me he took care of it.” He mutters. You can’t tell if he actually wants to be here or not.

You contemplate for a moment. Today’s lesson is easy, no materials are truly used, no food would be wasted, and if he really just wants to sit in on one lesson where you talk way too much for even your liking, then you suppose it wouldn’t hurt. “Alright,” you say, and write his name down next to Erwin Smith’s. “Have him call and you’ll be here instead of him, but there’s no going back and forth. It’s you or him for the whole time, not when you or him feel like it.”

You don’t look up for a reaction, eager to get the class started now that it’s running significantly later than you had planned, but you don’t miss the quiet “thank you” that comes from him as you walk away.

—

This has to be one of your worst groups you’ve ever had. They’re rowdy, they’re unorganized, they’re – they’re absurdly bad at even handling a knife. All except for Levi. He seems to be the only one that’s remained quiet, and certainly the only one that has remained clean and organized – you’re starting to think you should emphasize the importance of a clean kitchen again. He still seems uncomfortable with a knife, but that’s a skill you know he’ll develop. For now–

“Sasha!” Your eyes catch her fiddling with her knife, dangerously close to slicing the tip of her finger off. “Put the knife down. I haven’t even gotten started today.” She sets it down haphazardly on the counter as her boyfriend, Niccolo, pats her back comfortingly.

Oh how badly you want to give up on them.

You sigh, but begin your lesson nonetheless, pacing around the room with your hands clasped behind your back. “Today is all about knife skills–” groans and cheers fill the room. “Okay, settle down,” you raise your voice over them until they calm down. “Knife skills does not mean you’ll be cooking today–” more groans, you ignore them. “On your workstation is an eight inch Gyuto knife – a chef’s knife – as Sasha has already discovered.” You give the young woman an amused glance, seeing her cheeks flush. “And some carrots and onions.”

You make your way to the front of the room and grab your knife along with a sheet of paper. “Now, your knife should be sharp enough to cut through a piece of paper.” You hold the piece of paper in front of you and glide your knife through, easily slicing the paper. “Your knives have all been pre sharpened by me before tonight, but I want to emphasize the importance of a sharp knife.” Ooh’s and ahh’s fill the room.

You grab another chef’s knife that you previously dulled and a tomato. “Can everyone see?” The students nod as you look around the room, you briefly lock eyes with Levi when he doesn’t answer your question – you hope he’s not being shy. “A sharp knife is a safe knife. This knife–” you hold up the one that has been dulled– “has been dulled.” You carefully attempt at slicing the tomato, ensuring your fingers are out of the way as the blade slips off the surface. You grab your sharpened knife, emphasizing the change in utensils, and glide your blade through the tomato like butter. “A sharp knife doesn’t slip, and you don’t risk chopping your finger off when the knife goes somewhere you didn’t expect.”

“That’s scary,” Reiner’s voice interrupts the quietness of the rest of his classmates.

You chuckle softly. “It can be if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You go through the rest of your lesson, instructing them to keep their fingers out of the way, tuck their fingertips in, always cut on a flat surface, and all the other knife skills that you had written down. You’re walking around again now, hands clasped behind your back and observing as your students attempt the newfound skills. You notice how one of your students, Annie, is a natural and how she helps her partner Armin. You leave them alone knowing she can handle it.

The hour is almost over when you hear a quiet, “fuck” muttered under someone’s breath behind you. You turn around to see Levi looking at his finger, a small drop of blood beginning to form and an onion mutilated on his cutting board. You had shown them how to perfectly dice an onion as well, keeping the root intact and slicing both horizontally and vertically before cutting perpendicular to the vertical cuts. It seems as though he’s been struggling instead of cutting, the mutilated onion that’s hardly salvageable acting as proof.

You calmly walk over to him, not wanting the rest of the class to see blood in the kitchen and cause chaos no matter how small the amount is. “Levi,” you speak softly, not wanting to irritate the already frustrated man. “Let’s get your hands cleaned up and a bandaid, yeah?”

He looks up at you and scoffs. “Tch. I’m not a child. It’s a small cut.” He looks back down at his finger, the blood starting to stream down it into his palm. He bites the inside of his cheek, clearly contemplating. “Fine,” he grumbles.

You smile. “Follow me.” You lead him to the front of the classroom to your own workstation and your sink that’s clean and empty. “Go ‘head and clean up. I’ll grab a bandaid.”

You grab the first aid kit on the wall and easily find a bandaid to give to the man once he’s washed his hands. He takes it wordlessly from you, opening it and enclosing it around his finger. You look at the analog clock on the wall – five minutes left.

“Alright guys,” you address the room. “You have five minutes to clean up today. Good job.” Levi scoffs at your words and you turn to him again as he starts to walk away. “Hey,” you say softer now that you’re not speaking to the class.

He stops in his tracks, hardly glancing back at you. “What?” he asks harshly.

“Can you stay after for a bit?” you question as you clean up your cutting board, scooping up your diced onion with a bench scraper to put in tupperware for the ride home.

He bites the inside of his cheek again. “Sure.”

“You can clean up your workstation,” you tell him as he starts his walk again.

You’re annoying, Levi thinks to himself as he cleans up his work station, frowning down at the mutilated onion. He dumps it into the trash. She’s just being nice, Erwin would tell him. You think everyone’s annoying, Hange would chime in right after him.

At least you were pretty to look at.

He won’t admit to a soul that you intimidated him the moment he walked into the room. He was already late, traffic being slightly worse that day (of course), and then finding out Erwin didn’t even call to let you know Levi would be here instead every week just irritated him further. But you had looked at him with patience – you knew shit happened – and it was hard to meet your gaze. You were a beautiful woman, not the elderly woman he was expecting, and right around his own age. Your voice was soft and understanding and Levi couldn’t stay mad even if he wanted to once you had spoken to him so calmly.

Now you were asking for him to stay after he embarrassed himself in front of you, cutting himself and mutilating the stupid onion on his cutting board. You probably pitied him at this point.

The other students filed out of the doorway, loud and rambunctious, and leaving behind hardly cleaned workstations. “So what went wrong?” your voice echoes through the now empty room, a thoughtful expression on your face as you look at him. “That onion looked worse off than your finger,” you joke, and he notices the mask you wear in front of the class has fallen a bit. He likes the sound of your voice more when you’re not trying so hard.

“Shit was falling apart,” he grumbles, loud enough for you to hear, but clearly irritated.

You hum. “Let’s give it another try.” You pull out another onion and set it on your clean cutting board, your chef’s knife lying down on the surface. “Did you watch the demonstration?”

“Yes,” he lies. Truthfully, he couldn’t see over Bertholdt’s annoyingly tall figure and his meathead of a boyfriend.

You don’t mention how you noticed he’s lying and he’s grateful. “Hm. Let’s do a little refresher then.”

You grab your knife and onion, using the knife to point at the root of the onion. “We want this intact, that way it doesn’t fall apart on us.” You position the onion and cut it in half, leaving half the root on each side. “Work with half at a time–” you set half the onion off to the side– “And slice horizontally first to get a really fine dice.” You glide the knife through the onion that’s lying face down, adjacent to the cutting board. “As a beginner, it’s easier to keep your hand flat on top of the onion to stabilize it. You almost want your hand to be slightly concaved, so your fingers are for sure out of the way of your knife.” You demonstrate with your hand, and Levi tries not to get distracted by your fingers. “Once you’ve cut horizontally were going to do some vertical cuts. And you’ll notice it creates more long slices throughout the onion. Once you have those you start cutting this way–” you drive the knife through the onion– “and there you have a really uniform dice.”

You look up at him now that you’re not cutting, a small smile on your lips. “Got it,” he mumbles.

“Great!” You’re happier than usual. “Give it a shot.” You toss an onion at him and he easily catches it, sending you a slight glare as he does.

He cuts the onion in half and he’s already off to a poor start. One side has the root on it and the other is barely holding on, clearly falling apart already. He frowns down at the two halves and puts the falling apart one off to the side, grabbing the intact one to slice. You’re watching him intently, but he tries not to let it bother him.

He does what you showed him, and it doesn’t come out too bad. The pieces are slightly less uniform than yours were, but for the most part they’re even enough that someone wouldn't be able to tell if they were in a dish and cooked down.

You’re fondly smiling at him when he looks up from the cutting board.

Maybe you’re not as annoying as he thought.

—

Levi starts staying after class every week to help you clean up and you’re grateful you don’t have to do it by yourself anymore. You had insisted he didn’t need to do it for you the first time, and even the second time, but he vehemently disagreed, claiming, “these brats are annoying little shits that can’t clean up after themselves.”

You laughed.

You swipe a damp dish cloth across your own workstation and push off the stray pieces of broccoli florets into the trash – they stick to everything. But you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed at them right now, lost in thought about the man just a few meters away. You need to give your best friend a call because you’ve been thinking about Levi even when you leave work for the evening, thoughts drifting to what he might be up to.

Does he have a significant other to go home to? Perhaps Mr. Erwin Smith was really his partner that waited for him and decided he needed some help in the kitchen instead of doing it all by himself. It shouldn’t matter if he has a significant other because you don’t think of him that way, you tell yourself. But who are you kidding?

You’ve been scrubbing at the same spot for quite a while now and Levi notices. “Oi.” Your head snaps up in his direction. He’s looking at you with that same blank look on his features, but your cheeks flush anyway. You were so lost in thought you didn’t realize he’s cleaned half the room while you’ve been scrubbing – more like mindlessly wiping – at the same spot on your own workstation.

“Hm?” you hum in question, focusing your gaze back on your workstation where you clean the rest of it now.

“You seem distracted,” he observes, resuming his own cleaning.

You chuckle uneasily. “Just a lot on my mind.” You grab the sanitizer now that your table has been wiped off.

You don’t notice how he hesitates. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your eyes find him again and you give him a small, reassuring smile. “That’s alright,” you tell him truthfully. “I’m sure it’ll blow over soon.”

Because having a crush on Levi wouldn’t be what you need right now. You’re fine being single.

—

“Being single means you get to have fun!” your best friend shouts at you over a pint of beer.

Despite your protests, she’s dragged you out to her favorite bar, coercing you into having a drink with you and while your choice of liquor is different than hers, you are enjoying yourself. Not that you’ll admit it to her.

It’s dimly lit, with dark walls that make it feel cozy – she’s always been one for what you like to call “hipster bars” rather than the loud club you frequented in your college days. The music is audible enough to enjoy, but you don’t need to yell just to speak to her – not that she’s understanding of that.

“I just don’t want to lead him on,” you sigh, taking a sip of your drink. “He’s a sweet guy.”

“Didn’t you just tell me how broody and rude this man is,” she deadpans.

You laugh. “But he’s charmingly broody and rude,” you defend. “I don’t know. There’s just something about him.” You sigh and lean back, taking a bigger gulp of your drink.

It’s stupid really. You’ve known the man for what? Four weeks? Even at that the only time you’re in his company is for about two hours once a week and that’s only because he helps you clean up after class. You’ve known the man for all of eight hours.

Your best friend groans. “Loosen up. What about a one night stand? Fuck him and dump him if you’re so worried about getting attached.”

You scoff at her and down the rest of your drink. “That is not what I want to do to him.” You flag the waitress down to order another round.

—

“Levi,” Erwin sighs. “What are you so pissy for? You just closed the biggest deal of the year!” The tall blond man slaps his hands down on Levi’s shoulders from behind as the two men walk into the outdoor mall Erwin insisted on going to. “Let’s have a walk around and you’ll get out of your head.”

“Get off of me you giant,” Levi scoffs.

He can’t get you out of his fucking head. He’s known you for five weeks – if that really, considering he only spends two hours with you each time.

Ten hours. He’s known you for ten hours.

The way you look when you’re concentrating, or when you’re happy the class enjoys what you’ve made, makes him so fond of you. Especially when he can tell that you’re annoyed by some of your students – specifically Eren and Jean even though they’re not partners – and that makes him almost smile.

It’s not that Levi isn’t used to being around women, it’s just that he hasn’t been enamored by someone in quite some time. One night stands are easy – you forget about them right after – but he doesn’t want just a one night stand with you and it’s annoying. He catches himself wondering what you do outside of your job, if you have a significant other you go home to or if you spend your evenings alone just like he does.

Work is the last thing on his mind recently and Levi is genuinely surprised that he was capable of closing such a big deal at the office. Erwin insisted on taking him to this ridiculous outdoor mall, claiming he needs to stop by a few places before they head to their usual bar. So he’ll indulge him tonight, and the alcohol will make him forget you and maybe find some other woman to take home instead. He’ll take the rest of his classes and forget about you. Yeah.

Levi doesn’t realize the direction Erwin is taking him in until he’s walking towards the same building he frequents once a week. “Why are we here?” Levi scowls at the man next to him.

“I need some supplies,” Erwin shrugs and walks towards the front door, swinging it open and looking back at Levi as he half holds it open for him. “I’m cooking Rose her favorite dinner this weekend for a double date with Hange and Moblit.”

“Gross,” Levi mumbles as he walks through the doorway. He tries to distract himself by just following Erwin around, staring at all the unknown culinary tools on the shelves and display tables. He knows you might be here, but fuck he really hopes you’re not. Who the hell would teach a cooking class on a Friday?

Levi’s eyes widen when he hears sudden chatter fill the room, a group of adults walking to exit the building and coming from the familiar room at the back of the store. “Can we go, Eyebrows?” Levi asks. His outside demeanor is cold and uninterested as usual, feigning impatience for Erwin, but he feels like he’s sweating bullets. He does not need you to see him here. He knows Erwin will strike up a conversation with you.

He does his best to hide, using Erwin’s larger body as a shield and the display tables to his advantage all while remaining stoic and outwardly unbothered. “What do you think about this one, Levi?” Erwin asks, holding out a large dutch oven in his hands – at least that’s what he thinks it is.

“Sure, yeah,” Levi absentmindedly replies, eyes scanning the area for you to make sure he remains unseen.

“I think it’s good too,” Erwin thoughtfully hums, oblivious to Levi’s inner turmoil. “I think it’s worth the four hundred dollars.”

Levi whips his head towards Erwin. “Four hundred dollars?” he asks incredulously. What a ridiculous amount of money for a–

“Levi?” your voice sounds behind him and Levi spins around, clearly caught off guard. You’re smiling at him as you walk towards him. “I thought that was you.” You turn to Erwin and introduce yourself – of course he shakes your hand like a gentleman.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Erwin smiles back at you. “So you teach the cooking classes here?”

“Ah, yeah.” You sheepishly rub the back of your neck. “Calmer than a restaurant,” you briefly explain – Erwin nods in understanding. “A Le Cruset? That’s a big purchase.”

Erwin briefly looks down at the dutch oven in his arms. “It’s needed for my fiancé’s favorite,” he smiles at you. “I have a bit more experience than my friend over here, so I’m sure it’ll be a worthwhile purchase.”

You both laugh at Levi’s expense, and he wishes he was anywhere but here. “I’m sure they’ll love it then,” you tell him, and Levi can tell you’re being sincere by the softer look in your eyes. Since when did he notice shit like that?

You’re about to say something to him when Erwin speaks up again. “Anyone at home to use your skills for?”

Levi wants to grab the dutch oven and knock him out with it.

You chuckle, taking his inquiry light heartedly. “No, just a couple of cats that seem to use me for dinner before wandering off again.” Your cheeks are flushed, and you clear your throat before turning to Levi again.

Erwin excuses himself to check out and Levi breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry about him,” he starts. “He can be a lot.”

“No, no he was fine,” you laugh. “I was just surprised to see you here, but it makes sense now.” You gesture toward the register where Erwin is.

Fuck, Levi feels so awkward right now. He never feels this way around you, and he can only blame it on how attractive you look even with small bits of flour in your hair. And Levi wants to curse Erwin for being so brash and blatantly asking about your relationship status, but he has to admit that he’s happy to hear his biggest competition are a couple of frequenting cats.

“Hey,” you cut through his thoughts, barely a moment passing since you last spoke. “I have to get going, but I’ll see you next week?” you ask him, backing away to make your way out the door.

“Uh, yeah,” Levi stutters out. “Of course.”

You smile at him and turn around, and Levi tries to force down the smile on his own lips.

“Just ask her out already,” Erwin comments from behind Levi, making the man jump.

“Fuck off,” Levi grumbles, glaring at the blond man and his shit eating grin as they walk out the building. “Let’s get a fucking drink,” he sighs.

Despite the amount of drinks in him by the end of the night, Levi doesn’t talk to a single woman and makes Erwin take him home, wishing you were there with him.

—

“Alright,” your voice carries through the room. “Today we’re making a request sent in by one of you.”

The room’s chatter dies down as all the attention is on you. You’re strolling through the classroom, and when you announce the recipe you’ll be demonstrating you cast a glance toward Levi, a happy glint in your eyes.

“We’ll be making a french omelet,” you say, and Levi can hear the excitement in your voice. “I’m sure some of you may already know how, but I thought it would be fun to do a quick recipe today and just enjoy eating!” You walk to the front of the room and Levi tries his best to pay attention to what you’re actually demonstrating and not just you.

It’s the sixth week of classes and Levi has learned a lot, but he’s not looking forward to them ending. He has two more and then they’re over – he won’t see you every Thursday anymore. Erwin practically pleaded with him last week to ask you out, saying “it seems that she likes you.” Levi had just scoffed. You’re out of his league by far and he hasn’t gotten any hints from you that you’re interested. He’s lucky you tolerate him enough to allow him the extra time with you after class.

“The ingredients are all laid out on your workstations,” you begin. “Three eggs will make a good size omelet, and you’ll want to use an eight inch skillet to ensure you get a good spread. I like chives and parsley in mine, but you could throw some other herbs in there as well. There’s a few labeled options in front of you.”

You’re looking around the room – Levi can’t help but think you seem to look at him the most often. He must be delusional.

“You need about a tablespoon of butter, and I like to add just a couple tablespoons of Gruyère. It’s a good melty cheese and decently mild.”

You instruct the class on what to do; preheat the pan, let the butter become foamy before adding in your already mixed eggs. Levi follows along as precisely as he can, eager to not fuck up his own requested recipe. He concentrates so hard he doesn’t notice that you’ve started to walk around the room as everyone works on folding their own omelets. He plates it and garnishes it with a few chives before looking up at you watching him.

You’re smiling, and you look proud, before you walk to the front of the room. “You all did so well,” you praise. “Let’s eat.” Everyone cuts into their own omelets, the sound of forks and knives clinking against plates fill the room before uniform sounds of approval. Everyone gushes about how good it tastes.

Levi looks down at his own plate, proud of himself for managing to not fuck this one up. It’s almost identical to yours that you had shown the class and the corners of his lips tilt up. He cuts a piece off and brings it to his mouth, savoring the taste of the egg and cheese on his tongue. It tastes just like the ones his mom used to make him as a kid, the same kind of cheese and flavors melting in his mouth.

He’s grateful you remembered his off handed comment about it – he wants to walk up to you and kiss you. Fuck, he can’t get over how gentle of a soul you are, and how he feels like he needs you in his life so he can take care of you just how you’ve managed to do for him.

The rest of the class goes by with quiet chatter and Levi finishes his omelet as you do the same. He’s slightly disappointed that it was such an easy lesson since he figures you won’t need much help cleaning up after. Perhaps he can work up the courage to just ask you out on the last day of classes – definitely not before if you say no – and if you say no he’ll never have to see you again. He frowns at the thought.

Your students file out the door one by one and you can’t help but notice that Levi is the last one headed out. It was an easy day – an omelet isn’t quite the culinary challenge – and the whole room is already clean, but you frown at the prospect of him leaving so early.

“Levi,” you speak up just before he’s out the door, not even sure of what you want to say in the first place. “Did you want to stay behind with me?” you ask uneasily. “I was going to honestly cook something up just to try it… but if you have places to be I understand.”

He looks at you, dumbfounded. You feel like you’ve fucked up, but maybe he just wasn’t expecting the invitation. “Alright,” he speaks slowly. “Sure.”

You give him a small smile, uneasiness obvious on your features. “Did you like today’s lesson?” you ask knowingly.

“Yes,” he mumbles as he takes a seat on a stool behind what’s usually Reiner and Bertholdt’s workstation. “You remembered.”

“I hope it lived up to your standards,” you sigh softly as you gather your ingredients. You’re thinking braised artichokes sound good, but you’re not sure if that’s all you want.

“It tasted just like the ones I used to have,” Levi comments, his voice still quiet. He’s fidgeting with his thumbs on top of the counter, rubbing them back and forth.

“Your mother used to make them, right?” you ask as you work on preparing the artichokes. You don’t want him to feel pressured.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Artichokes?”

You take the subject change and roll with it. “Braised artichokes. Really simple, but so good.” You hum just thinking about them.

“Never had ‘em,” Levi says quietly. “Can I help at all?”

You pause, thinking. “I can show you how to clean them up,” you suggest.

He gets up from the stool, seemingly more relaxed as he stands by your side. You demonstrate first, just like you do in your classes, and then he takes over with his own. The thorns are cut with kitchen shears, the stems cut down and stripped of their harsh outer layer, then cut in half so the choke can be removed. He does it meticulously and you laugh at how precise he’s being – it’s somehow endearing.

You brown them, cut sides down, in the pan with butter before adding chicken broth and popping open a bottle of white wine. You grab two glasses and pour, then splash a bit into the pan before covering it with a lid.

“Cheers,” you say to Levi, smiling at him. You think you see a small smirk on his lips as he clinks his glass against yours. You drag over a couple of stools and you both sit down as you sip on your wine.

Levi looks at you fondly. “What made you want to teach cooking classes?” He asks, genuine curiosity in his eyes.

You set your glass down on the counter. “I went to culinary school when I wasn’t even sure about what to do with my life,” you sigh. You’ve only told a handful of people this story, but he asked – it seems like he actually cares. “I did have a passion for cooking though, and eventually got the opportunity to work in a Michelin Star restaurant.”

“Impressive,” Levi hums.

“Thanks,” you say sheepishly. “It just– It didn’t feel right. I loved the fast pace and I made some good friends there, but it was just a lot.”

“So you decided to teach imbeciles that can’t even cut an onion?” Levi jokes, but his face remains stoic.

You laugh and you swear you see that small smirk again. “Yes,” you say through the end of your laugh. “But you guys are my imbeciles, and if I can help make someone’s life a little bit easier then I’m happy. Feeding ungrateful rich people everyday while working my ass off isn’t as rewarding.” You grab your wine and take another sip. “What about you? You didn’t seem like this was your cup of tea.”

“Erwin insisted,” Levi says as if that explains everything – it kind of does based on the personality of the blond man you met. “Told me I should try some new things; basically insulted my cooking skills.”

“Well,” you tease.

“Hey,” Levi defends. “I’m not that bad.”

“Sure,” you smile behind the rim of your glass as you finish off your wine. He rolls his eyes and you take that as a win.

The artichokes have finished braising in the pan and you plate them. It’s simple – flaky salt, a squeeze of fresh lemon juice, and they’re perfect. You set the plate down in front of Levi and yourself, ready to eat.

He looks lost, staring down at the vegetable like he doesn’t know where to start. “Take a leaf off,” you show him, peeling an outer leaf back. “And then use your bottom teeth to scrape the flesh off.”

“That’s disgusting,” Levi grumbles, but he does what you say regardless.

“The closer you get to the center the more tender it is and the more flesh you get on the– what’s wrong?” Levi has a look of disgust on his features as he looks down at the leaf he just ate.

He looks up at you, clearing his features to remain blank again. “Nothings wrong.”

“You don’t like them,” you state.

“No I do,” he insists and grabs another leaf off. He eats it again, and the same look of disgust is on his features. He looks up, knowing you’ve caught him. “I’m sorry,” he says and sets down the leaf, wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I don’t think I’m used to them.”

You laugh, covering your mouth as you do. “That’s okay,” you tell him and reach for his plate. He swats your hand away.

“No,” he says quickly. “You made this. Let me just try the center– you said it’s more tender.” He takes his fork and cuts off a piece of the heart, putting it into his mouth before you can stop him – you’ve been laughing this whole time. You watch him swallow reluctantly. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

You put your hand on his thigh. “It’s okay, Levi,” you giggle. “It’s not for you. I’ll take them home.”

You stand up, but Levi grabs your wrist before you can grab the plates and you stumble a bit closer. “It’s not your cooking, I promise,” he says gently.

Your cheeks flush at how close you are, a hand on his thigh to brace yourself. “I know,” you mutter. He let’s go and you grab the plates to put things away, flustered.

—

You should be excited that this round of classes is over. You get a one week break from work before the next round starts, you’ll get a new batch of a, hopefully, more talented group of people – you should be happy.

But you can’t get Levi off your mind. So much so that you go through the whole lesson on autopilot, doing the demonstration like usual and guiding your students – you didn’t even realize how often you were looking at him.

But Levi noticed, because now as the rest of the people file out the door for the last time after saying goodbye to you, he’s a nervous fucking wreck. Erwin has convinced him to ask you out on the off chance you say yes (he didn’t say that, Levi is just adamant that you won’t want to) and he’s trying to work up the courage to just fucking do it.

You’ve seemed distracted all day, and hopefully you still accept his help. He lingers behind when everyone has left, but you still haven’t acknowledged him. “Hey,” Levi says, his voice coming out smoother than he anticipated – thank fuck.

You jerk your head up. “Oh,” you say, surprised. “I’m sure you just want to get out of here. You don’t have to help clean up.”

He really hopes you’re not trying to get rid of him. “I was um–” He clears his throat, looking away before he finds his courage again to look back at you. “I was going to ask if you’d like to see each other sometime?” – that didn’t come out as planned – “Outside of your classroom.”

You blink, and for a moment Levi fears that the rejection he’s been thinking about is right in front of him. But then you smile. “I’d love to.”

A small smile shows on his lips as he walks towards you. “I know this won’t sound like much, but I was hoping I could cook something for you,” Levi suggests. Fuck his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest.

The way you say, “oh?” with a hint of teasing and your natural intonation makes his mind swirl.

“I’ve been practicing,” he explains. “I was hoping to show you how much I’ve learned thanks to you.”

“You’re sweet,” you grin. You walk up to him and place a hand on his chest, then a kiss on his cheek with your soft lips. “Sounds great. How’s Saturday?”

Levi can’t believe how eager you sound and that’s much sooner than he had planned, but the sooner the better, right? “Yeah, yeah. Saturday works,” he stumbles out as he looks back at you. Your hand hasn’t left his chest.

“Oh!” you say suddenly and turn around, fumbling with a notepad and pen that you find in a drawer. “Here.” You hand him a small scrap of paper with a phone number on it. “You’ll probably need that.” You smile at him again as he takes it.

—

You meet Levi at his apartment, feeling safe enough after knowing him for weeks, and so he can prepare whatever he has planned for you. He stumbles through an apology over the phone, telling you he didn’t think it through when he was planning the date – you find his nervousness endearing.

And even more so when he opens the door. You chose to wear your favorite little black dress, regardless of your anxiety about it being too much. Your hair is styled just how you like it, and you’re grateful for the good hair and makeup day you were graced with. Levi seems to agree as he gawks at you for a moment, lips slightly parted as his jaw goes slack, and you can feel your cheeks flush under his gaze.

Your nervous laughter seems to snap him out of it enough, and he steps back from the doorway so you can enter his apartment. “You look…” He clears his throat. “You look great.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, looking back at him over your shoulder. His apartment is small, but it’s sparkling clean and has character. There's large dark brown bookshelves, and artwork hangs on the walls. His living room is still minimalistic with a dark leather couch that has a chaise and simple coffee table, and the kitchen on the left is larger than you thought it would be for someone who doesn’t cook.

You turn around to look at him. “You look great too,” you compliment. And he does, far too good for you to walk away tonight without making some kind of move if he doesn’t do it first and everything goes well. You notice his black dress slacks hug his thighs and ass perfectly as he walks to the kitchen after a shy thank you, and his broad back is only highlighted by the white dress shirt he wears. Brave, cooking in white, but he pulls it off so well as he rolls up his sleeves just below his elbows.

You take your shoes off by the door and follow him into the kitchen. “You seemed to like white wine,” he says and pours you a glass as you take a seat on a bar stool in front of the counter. “Pasta alla vodka,” he tells you as you take the glass from him. “I hope it lives up to your fancy standards.”

“You were a good student.” You laugh and take a sip of your wine – it’s way better than what you had in your classroom. “I’m excited.”

“I think you’re biased,” he grumbles and turns to the stove. “Make yourself comfortable. It’ll just be a bit.”

So you do, and you sit on the chaise part of his couch, but as he makes dinner and you get lost in watching him you end up more so lying on your side. Your elbow keeps you elevated enough to see him, and your legs are slightly bent – of course your other hand is available to drink your wine.

For someone who didn’t know how to cook anything, or even cut an onion, just eight weeks ago he seems to be confident in the kitchen now. It’s unbelievably sexy to watch him work, the way his back muscles move when he’s simply just stirring the sauce, or the way his brows furrow in concentration when he thinks you’re not watching. You watch his hands the most, and the way his veins show on his forearms has you wanting to skip dinner and go straight to dessert, but you’re also excited to taste what he’s made.

He pulls two shallow pasta bowls from the cabinet and plates your dinner. He leaves the second one empty for now. “Would you like to try?” he asks. He seems nervous, but you can tell he’s trying his best to stay confident. His eyes trail along your body that’s still lying on the couch.

You smile up at him. “Please,” you say and sit up.

He walks over to you and takes the wine glass so you can grab the bowl and use the fork. “Don’t spill,” he mumbles to you.

You lift the fork to your mouth with a piece of rigatoni covered with sauce speared on the end. You make eye contact as you do, staring up at him and opening your mouth wide before you close your mouth to chew. It’s delicious, a perfect vodka sauce, and your eyes almost roll back from how good it is. “Levi, this is amazing,” you tell him truthfully once your mouth isn’t full.

He takes his thumb and slowly drags it along your lower lip, cleaning any sauce you had left on the corner of your mouth. “I’m glad you like it,” he mutters. He turns before you can react.

Your wine glass is set on the table and you carry your plate over, joining him as he sits down as well. Somehow you manage to get through your meal without completely jumping him, the tension in the room palpable. Your feet would graze his calf, trailing up and down just to see his reaction, and you know if you saw yourself you would cringe. It just doesn’t fucking matter when Levi’s looking at you like he wants to devour you for dessert as you converse.

Levi does the dishes – you expected nothing less – and you watch after he insists that you don’t need to lift a finger. You wait until he’s done with the dishes to walk closer, but you stop just shy and lean against the counter.

He dries his hands off with a kitchen towel and sets it down before he gives you his full attention. “Well?” he asks knowingly.

You’re not sure who surges forward first, all you know is that your lips are on Levi’s and it’s everything you need. His hands are on your waist and they travel to squeeze your ass through your dress as he pushes you against the counter, pushing his body into yours. It’s hot, and so sensual you feel like you might melt beneath him as his lips move with yours so seamlessly. You know your hands were on his biceps at some point to stabilize yourself, but one has moved to the nape of his neck to bring him as close as possible while the other still holds onto him.

You’ve been waiting for this, pining since you got to know the man and you hope this won’t be the last time. Your best friend knows you can’t get him off your mind, talks late into the night about how you should just make a move keeping you up late. And now you finally have him, and all you want him to do is fuck you senseless.

He pulls you away from the counter and walks you backwards, hands pushing the fabric of your dress up so he can squeeze your ass without any fabric in the way as his lips travel down to your neck. You let out a small moan when there’s skin on skin contact, relishing in the feeling of his lips against your sensitive pulse point, but wanting to get a taste of him yourself – you can’t let him have all the fun. You push him up against the wall of his small hallway, earning a small gasp from him, and immediately drop to your knees, eagerly unbuckling his belt.

He’s already hard in his boxers, bulging against the thin fabric, and when you pull them down his cock practically springs out. It’s the perfect size, but you briefly pause and wonder how you’re going to fit it anywhere after discovering what he’s been hiding. You wrap a hand around the base and give the head a small kiss as a tease. His hand finds a grip in your hair, not enough to push you around, and you open your mouth to take him in.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his head lolling forward as he looks down at you, your eyes never leaving his. You jerk your hand around him and hollow your cheeks as you suck him off. You so desperately want to pull a whine out of him – anything that will give you the satisfaction of hearing Levi so vulnerable.

You remove your hand and work him all the way in, your nose brushing against the happy trail that leads to the cock inside your mouth. You finally pull an incredibly breathy moan from him and pull back when you can feel yourself about to gag. You use your tongue, and stroke the underside of his cock, pressing at the sensitive spot just on the edge of his head – you feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Come ‘ere,” he chokes out, and you oblige with a small pop as you remove him from your mouth. You would swallow whatever he gives you, but you can’t help but be selfish and wish for his cum to be inside you instead.

He pulls you up and eagerly presses his lips against yours, his tongue darting out to taste himself as a hand snakes down to your center. His fingers slip under the thong you decided to wear, and you gasp as his fingers make contact with your clit. “Levi,” you moan, unashamed at how good he’s making you feel already as you grind down into his hand. One hand grips his shoulder, and the other is wrapped around his wrist as he moves his fingers against you.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he groans. He dips his fingers down through your folds to gather your slick, and resumes his unrelenting circles on your clit.

“Bedroom,” you choke out, and you almost cry at the sudden loss of his fingers despite him obeying your wishes.

He walks you backwards into his bedroom, and soon enough he’s taking your dress off over your head. You slide your soaked thong off as he pulls the white dress shirt over his head and manages to kick off his boxers and slacks you’ve left undone for him. There’s barely a second where you drink each other in, and then he’s pinning you to his bed on his soft comforter.

“Condom?” he asks, and he’s already reaching for his nightstand drawer when you grab his arm.

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, and you can see the restraint clearly as he holds himself back. “It’s been awhile,” you tell him honestly – you’re clean.

“Me too,” he breathes. He leans down to kiss you, slightly slowing the pace down as he moves his lips languidly against yours. His cock brushes through your folds, causing the both of you to moan during an open mouthed kiss as the head of his cock catches on your clit. You grab him to line it up with yourself – you want him so desperately, you need him inside you already.

He pushes forward, and you can’t help but clench as he goes slowly so you can adjust to him. He let’s out a deep groan when he bottoms out, and his hand reaches for yours as he supports himself on his forearms and pushes you down into the mattress.

“Please,” you choke out, and he moves his hips slowly to pull out and back into you. His face falls to the crook of your neck and you can hear his panting as he thrusts into you. “Oh, Levi,” you moan when his cock practically strokes your cervix deep inside. “Harder,” you beg.

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck and listens to you, keeping the same slow pace, but pushing into you with bruising pressure. Your eyes roll back and your jaw goes slack as he fucks all of your senses out of you. He doesn’t hold back anymore and sits back, grabbing your hips to keep you flush with him as he pumps himself inside you. Fuck, you’re so close, and when his thumb barely begins circling your clit you cum hard all over him, your eyes closing and a long moan coming from you.

“Oh fuck,” Levi groans. “So pretty. So fucking tight.” He guides you through your orgasm. “Been wanting this,” he confesses what you’ve been feeling yourself.

“Yeah?” you breathe.

“So long,” he chokes out, and confesses, “never thought you’d want this – me.”

You reach up for him, wrapping your arms around the nape of his neck when he leans down for you, and you kiss him through your breathy moans. “Been wanting you,” you reassure him, and your eyes practically roll back when you notice the squelching sound coming from between your thighs as Levi presses deep into you. “Fuck. Need you – always,” you gasp. His head falls to your shoulder.

“Shit. Flip over for me, sweetheart?” His pace slows, and you answer him by flipping over on your stomach when he gently pulls out of you.

You both moan in unison when he inserts himself again, his cock pushing even deeper inside of you as he fucks you just as hard. You turn your head to the side and his hand finds yours as his chest meets your back, his positioning changing just slightly. “ ‘S good,” you mumble out when he does something that has you seeing stars. “Right there,” you tell him, half incoherent.

“Ah, you’re such a good girl,” he moans, his forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. “Fuck you take me so well.” You want him to cum, you want–

His movements stutter slightly as he presses as far as he can into you, his cock throbbing as you feel his warm cum spurt and coat your walls. You clench down on him, and the quiet whimper that escapes him leaves you desperately wanting more. Levi holds himself up just enough to where he doesn’t crush you, but his chest is still pressed to your back as his cock stays inside you. He presses into you again, and you whimper at the pressure – you could cum again from that alone.

You gasp when he sits up to pull out, leaving you feeling incredibly empty as you feel his cum seep out of you. “You’re going to get the bed dirty,” Levi tsks. You don’t expect to feel his fingers on you again, catching his cum that’s leaking out of you and slowly pushing it back in, and you let out a small moan. “Flip over me –” you do – “good girl.”

As soon as you’re on your back Levi’s head is in between your thighs, one hand separating your legs and the other pushing his cum inside you still as he fucks you with his fingers. “Mm, Levi, ‘s too much,” you moan as your head tilts back.

“I know you can handle it,” he tells you, and then his tongue is giving little kitten licks through your folds and up to your clit. “You taste so good,” he groans and latches his lips around your clit to suck and nibble, just to soothe you with caresses of his tongue. It’s overwhelming, and your hand flies down to card your fingers through his hair and establish a grip. He’s rutting into the mattress, getting off on eating you out alone even though he’s just made a mess of you.

His fingers leave you and you let out a desperate whine at the loss, just to practically gawk through heavy panting when he licks up his own cum as it leaks out of you. You cum hard when his thumb finds your clit, and you lose it at the sight of him lapping up your combined fluids leaking out onto his tongue.

He guides you through it, cleaning you thoroughly in the process with his wet kisses and licks, and when you’ve finally come down from your high he’s sitting up and wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand.

“You’re insane,” you breathe, a huff of a laugh coming out as well as you lay there completely fucked out. “All your talents went to that instead of cooking.”

He laughs, and you actually catch a glimpse of his smile. You wish you could see it more, and you make a promise to yourself to always try to bring that side out of him. “I thought you said dinner was perfect?” he asks as he lays down next to you, an arm opening wide as you scoot yourself closer, your jello-like limbs hardly aiding you.

“Mm, I said it was amazing,” you clarify. “Not perfect.”

He frowns as you look up at him from your spot on his chest. “Was it not right?”

You almost panic when you realize he’s actually self conscious about it. “What? No, it really was amazing Levi,” you tell him. You kiss his chest. “Basically perfect,” you amend.

“Just wanted to hear you say it was perfect,” Levi tells you with a smirk on his face, and leans down to kiss you.

You spend the night and Levi wakes you up by eating you out and making pancakes – the one thing he knew how to make before taking your cooking classes because his little sister, Isabel, loved them – and you couldn’t ask for anything better.

Many mornings and nights are spent the same way, and you even get to meet Erwin’s fiancé Rose eventually, along with Hange and Moblit despite Levi’s reluctance. Levi tells you he loves you eventually over a dinner gone wrong – a recipe he wanted to try and failed – but you loved spending the moment over greasy pizza and a cheap bottle of wine anyway, your laughter about the disaster filling the air before he made love to you.

All the while you continue to teach Levi new cooking skills that he learns quickly, and a few years later you’re happy to agree to doing it for the rest of your life with him when he proposes.

You never thought you’d fall for a student in your cooking classes, but you made sure to thank Erwin for forcing your lover to take them in the first place.

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